Imagine

If someone were to ask me, “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

I would draw a picture of a crystal ball. Inside of the pristine, traslucent glass would be a house located on the top of an endless oasis of green pastures extending far beyond what the eye can see. The quant home upon the California hills would possess four bedrooms, a three car garage, and a white, picket fence. In portrait fashion, there would stand a mother, a father, and two children: one boy and one girl; the girl being the younger of the two. A chocolate lab would kneel at his master’s feet; no barking, no growling, simply enjoying the simplicity of life. The sky would be a light blue in color as the sun would hang at its highest point in the atmosphere, signifying that noon was fast approaching. A cool breeze would blow through the thin air and the aroma of oranges would float effortlessly off the leaves of the trees adjacent to the house, consuming every ounce of breath inhaled and exhaled.

If someone were to ask me, “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

I would imagine up a fairytale. Inside the pages of my “happily ever after,” I would sing melodious harmonies all day with a smile upon my face. My house upon a hill would only be located 15 minutes from downtown L.A. where my P.R. business would thrive. Concepts such as stress, unhappiness, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder would not exist, as I would not possess a care in the world.

If someone were to ask me, “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

I would think back to my life a year ago.

A year ago, Torie and I were still best friends.

A year ago, I was attending school in Tucson.

A year ago, Jim and Linda were still alive.

A year ago, my dog was still alive.

A year ago I was unaware of what was soon to come.

So if someone were to ask me, “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

I would respond by stating, “I do not wish to imagine my future,” and walk away.