Everyone wants to be special in one way or another. They can deny it all they want, but most people daydream about themselves being something, even if it’s something as small as being special to that certain someone who has caught their eye, or something as great as curing cancer and/or gaining international fame.
I was probably one of the worst offenders of wishing I was special. Growing up, I think I spent more time daydreaming about being different, being special in one way or another than I did actually interacting in the real world. My mother wrote it off as me being an imaginative child. My father said it was the reason that I would amount to nothing. I wasn’t as special as I could daydream I was, so I would never put effort into the real world and nothing would come of me.
My father was wrong. I was special, more special than even I could have ever imagined. But right here, right now, I wish more than anything that my father was right, that I was just lying in bed imagining all this.