When she was 5-years old, she already knew where she wanted to be in her life. And at 25-years old she remembered after she heard a song on the radio at a Chinese restaurant. She walked in, stepped up to the counter, and said her name, “Posy”, to the teenage boy, who worked the register. He told the total, she pulled out her cash and he took it. Then the music that played in the background, started to make sense. She paused, for what felt like the slowest minutes of life. She didn’t even notice that the boy pulled out the receipt or placed her food on the counter. 

It was just her and the song. “You gotta strut as you mean it…free your mind…it’s not enough just to dream it come on, come on, get up.” “When you feel it, it’s your chance to shine…strut like you mean it come on, come on, come on.”  

Posy’s first thought wasn’t, “How the hell is this song on the radio?” Her first thought was a memory of her dancing, in the room she decorated herself. She purposely didn’t own a lot of possessions, because she wanted to make sure she had enough space to dance. “Miss, miss!” the boy said. “Oh sorry, thank you,” she said, as she came back from the pits of memory. As Posy left, she looked back just a little before she started to sweat, and her breath started to race and get short.  

Not too far away, Posy made it to her car in the parking lot, as it rained, late at night.  For sure, she was having a panic attack. She unlocked the door, nearly threw her food into the passenger seat, and stumbled herself down in the driver seat. She grabbed the steering wheel, holding it fast and tight, with a little shake in her grip. That one deep breath that gets recommended time and time again, she tried to take it, but she broke.   

Posy inhaled fine but exhaled incomplete. She broke into tears. 

 It was the tears of a dream not manifested. A broken heart from doing such a disservice to her younger self. Little Posy wanted to be a gymnastics gold medalist, and then a professional dancer. The Posy 25-minutes ago forgot all about that. In between school, family, deaths, work, relationships, expectations, and denial, she couldn’t manage a dream. Her spirit had been broken down in so many ways, she thought, her body couldn’t possibly bear the pressure anymore.   

Before her face could become a complete painting of agony, disappointment, and shame, she took some napkins from her food bag and wiped her beautiful, imperfect face. She prayed,  

“Oh God, what have I done? What did I do? Jesus fix it please.” One at a time, poor tears streamed down her cheeks, “Give me my dream back, give it back to me.”   

No matter how you see it, memories are good. We have memories of our favorite laughs and partners. We have memories of what that ex-best friend did in grade school, so now we know, to either choose them wiser or don’t have them at all. We have memories of being lonely as a child because mommy and daddy didn’t want to have another baby, so now we probably want a real big family or lots of friends. We have memories of the ones we’ve loved and lost, and that’s okay for some people, but for others, it’s pure heartbreak and misunderstanding. But, I’ll tell you what, Posy needed that memory. She needed it because now she’s doing exactly what she always wanted to do, she’s doing even better actually. And she wouldn’t be doing that if she didn’t remember. So, what do you remember? 

Lady Kaylah Reyn is a versatile writer and creator from Baltimore, Maryland. She writes poetry, monologues, short stories, scripts for film, and movies. Sometimes she will even incorporate her poetry and monologues in scripts! Her hobbies consist of acting, photo editing, photography, and art. She knows you’ll see her on the red carpet someday, but for now, follow her on Instagram and Twitter @kaylahrey.nxi