Someday

A Story by Becca H

The word holds far too much for seven little letters

I have such high expectations for my Someday. I keep putting all my hopes and dreams into it, like a bank of happiness. I wonder when it’ll pay out; I hope it isn’t all at once. Too much of a good thing, or good things, is dangerous. You lose your direction, your ability to only take life one day at a time, and you forget how to enjoy the small things.

Those small things are all that gets me through the days, anymore. You have to have them, and love them. If you lose sight of the glory in the small moments of happiness, how will you ever enjoy the breathtaking upset that is the huge moments of shimmering joy? It’s a lot like the saying, “If you don’t know where you come from, how can you know where you’re going?” You have to see and love the smallest bits of sunshine to appreciate the beauty in the dawn.

Someday- that word holds so much promise, doesn’t it? But it’s promise without commitment. You never know if the things in Someday are going to come to fruition. That’s a fear we all have, deep down. Knowing that, we still fill up our someday's with things that seem crazy, extravagant, fictitious, and nearly impossible. We all want our Someday to come, but what happens when it does? Will we even know what to do with the fulfillment of those dreams, thoughts, and ideas?

My Someday is full of mostly implausible things. Some possible, but highly unlikely things. Then there’s the small stuff that I simply cannot get done at this point in my life. I can hope and pray and beg and plead for it all, but the reality that I rarely admit is that most of it won’t happen. That’s the dive into the lake, right? The icy cold slap of reality that takes our breath away? We have to really believe in Someday, or we’ll all drown. Someday is our bread and butter, our life preserver, and out hearth fire. You stop believing and nurturing it, and you may as well die.

The human soul is a fragile, yet resilient thing. It thrives when we need steel, when we ache to fall to pieces. A soul is the most intimate part of a person; you can’t know them fully without catching a glimpse of it. But if you take that soul, and take away thing things that make it shine and glimmer, the whole thing will crack, possibly even break. A broken soul is worthless. It no longer holds the shape and luster of that beautiful idea we call hope. Our very beings rely on Someday. Each new day may be a Someday, but really, what happens after?