The weight of dreams

I keep wondering how dreams really work. They start off so soft, like something warm you could hold forever, but then they grow heavy — asking for more than I ever thought I had. People always say you should chase them. But sometimes I wonder if running after something that keeps drifting away is bravery or just self-inflicted pain. They also say there’s peace in trying, that it’s better than never moving at all. Maybe that’s true. But maybe peace is also found in learning when to stop, in knowing your limits and being okay with them. I don’t know which is sadder — to live quietly within what’s possible, or to keep reaching for something that was never meant for you. Maybe neither is sad. Maybe they’re both just different ways of surviving this strange need to mean something before it all fades.