The biggest problem with a quixotic life is the distance.
Closing your eyes and dreaming of that perfect place is one thing-getting there is something else entirely.
And as much as your destination leads you on, it also acts as constant reminder of how far you have to go, of the battles you’ve yet to fight, the mountains still to climb.
In the end it all gets too unbearable to face, the reality of it all grinding you down, day by day.
So you walk with your head down.
Keeping in the direction you were headed, dealing with things as they come but too fearful to look at where you are headed.
You learn to forget about the dreams you once had and get used to living a life of functional, gloomy necessity.
Then one day, the rains subside.
You find yourself walking with the sun on your back, with love at your side, the place you’ve been trying so hard to get too, close enough to taste.
And, though all of you is tired-you’ve come such a long way.