I had a dream, a beautiful, ambitious dream, and I gave everything I had to try and achieve it. It felt like an uphill battle from the start, but I refused to give up. I poured my heart and soul into making it a reality, sacrificing so much along the way. I lost precious time with my loved ones, missing out on the moments that I can never get back. I lost the sense of security that came with a stable job as I pursued this dream with relentless determination.

There were days when I questioned whether it was all worth it, but I couldn't abandon this dream that had become so ingrained in my identity. I pushed through the doubts and the setbacks – I invested my hopes, my energy, and my aspirations into it. But in the end, despite my unwavering effort, I lost. It slipped through my fingers like sand, leaving me feeling empty, broken, and lost.

The weight of this defeat is crushing. It's not just the dream that I lost, but also pieces of myself that I can never reclaim. I sacrificed so much for this vision, yet it feels like it was all for naught. The regret is a heavy burden that I carry, and it casts a shadow over everything I do. I wonder if I should have taken a different path, if I should have been more cautious, or perhaps less singularly focused on this dream.

The sadness is profound and unshakeable. The dream that fueled my passion and gave me purpose is now a source of pain. I am left wondering if the cost of pursuing it was too high – if I paid a price that I can never truly recover. The wounds of this loss run deep, and I am left to grapple with the aftermath, grappling with the bitter realization that, despite my best efforts, I couldn't make my dream come true.
© handcuffedpoet