The Heart Wants The American Dream

Something that was never expected of me by anyone was for me to become domestic. I have always been just a certain brand of offbeat that settling down never seemed to fit into the picture. It seems, however, that in getting older I started wanting things that were considered out of character for me.

Still, I can't help but daydream about owning my own home, with a fenced-in yard where Eris and my future German shepherd can play. My house would be decorated according to my own specifications, to reflect the style of my family; I would have a house cat, and maybe a whirlpool bathtub. I would also have a good job that still affords me plenty of personal time so as not to miss out on the important moments in life, and I would be home every night to cook dinner for my significant other and Eris.

Really, the American Dream can be expressed in two words: My Own (or for the less greedy, Our Own). A home of our own, vehicles of our own, children and pets of our own; and everything with our personal stamp to it.

Sometimes, I fear it will never happen for me, but I can't allow myself to give up before I even get going.