Perspectives

I made an offer on a house several months ago, at the time it seemed perfect and I couldn't imagine a better house. The offer was declined and I had to deal with the fact that it wasn't "meant to be" as they say. I actually dreamed about the seller calling me and accepting my offer when he realized how foolish he had been to turn me down (even my real estate agent agreed!). Sadly, that call never came. About two months later I decided to get back on the horse and keep looking. I wasn't convinced that I would find anything that rivaled the first house, but amazingly I did. In fact, the second house was even better than the first one. I fell in love with it. Then I found out it was a short sale.  Per my personality, I went for it anyway.

Now, a month and a half later, I'm still waiting on my offer, hoping that this house will be mine someday.  Biding my time until the bank makes up its mind. Patience and peace begin to mingle together as I wait.

On Monday, the seller from the first house called me at work. He was, as I had once dreamed of, willing to accept my offer on his house. He asked me if I was interested.  I thought about it for a few seconds and I knew; I'm not interested anymore. I found a better fit, and while there is no guarantee that the short sale house will even work out in the end, the knowledge that a better fit for me exists out there is all the reassurance that I need.  I truly wanted that first house a few months ago, an now I'm never even interested.

It really got me thinking though. The idea that perspectives can change so abruptly, that dreams may only be dreams for the present or until something better comes along. I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I love hard and deep. I don't get there easily, but when I do its powerful. Losing one of my "dreams" is always overwhelming in the beginning.  Sadness and loss are powerful emotions. But time does work-- and if nothing else it allows for perspectives to change naturally and expectations to regulate themselves.

Changed perspectives can give some poignant reminders of a life that no longer exists. Some dreams morph into something better and others just end. Life isn't the same six months later--sometimes its better and sometimes its worse, but it's always different.  And even I realize the sanity in that statement.  The logic is reassuring.  Change and adaptation create new and unique possibilities, unrivaled by stagnation.  We're better off in the end, even though it hardly seems like that in the beginning.  That's the beauty of change.