There is something propelling me forward, although I am scared half to death and feel as if my feet are made of lead. I feel as if each step will lead me into an abyss of red. Regardless, I am moving forward, as if some invisible rope is attached to my waist and I am being yanked by an invisible partner on the other end.  Although, there is no one on the other end. There is only an endless sea of red in front of me and a gaggle of flashing lights blinding me.

And yet, I move forward.

There are voices--some far off in the distance, and some close enough to be confused with a mosquito buzzing in my ear.  Their words are indiscernible because the sound of my beating heart is the only thing that I can truly focus on.  It's rhythmic thumping creating a soundtrack for my life.  Its tribal drum-like song suddenly pulling me back to a memory of a faded, dirty, New York City dance floor.  I am a young girl of twenty trying to act older than I am.  I am wasted.  Having fun.  Putting on a show for anyone willing to look.  Willing to be entertained.  The foundation for my dreams.  The sweet recollection of my youth makes me pause; makes me smile and suddenly my fear has been replaced with the same elated feeling I would get as soon as I was pushed passed the velvet rope and embraced by a dark doorway illuminated by pulsating neon lights from beyond.  There are voices here too, in my memories, but they are familiar accents with local flair.  They make me feel warm and as if I have suddenly found myself in the midst of a large family dinner with a set of dysfunctional cousins.  The union of their voices creating a sort of lullaby that immediately calms my nerves.

I move forward, down the sea of red, my glittery heels serving as modern day vessels; my dress as the sail that helps me glide through the rough, red waters.  My smile is my captain as it effortlessly navigates through questions and cameras and my heart is the engine that moves my ship with ease.  

I keep moving forward.

There at the end of the red sea stands one of the most prolific actors of our time. He is within inches of me.  I can see the back of his ear.  The innocent folds of his earlobe that seem so soft to touch.  His eyes are crinkly at the corner and they give in easily to their wrinkled grooves as he smiles.  I am mesmerized and then I am immediately drawn to the collar of his shirt and see the rim of sweat that has drenched its tip.  I exhale rather loudly with relief, seeing him sweat, and turn with a swift turn to smile toward a new camera.  There are now famous faces everywhere, surrounding me, and I keep wondering what I am doing here.  But instead of wasting time, I smile, I move forward and I assimilate with the greatness around me.  I have finally found my home, my family.  Regardless of the large family that is waiting for me at home and the love that has smothered me my whole life, I suddenly feel….complete.

I turn toward the doors.  They are tall and golden and I half expect to meet Peter with a guest list and a golden feathered pen , checking off names as he goes.  My steps seem light & heavy all at once as I anxiously walk towards the door.  This is it…the moment I have been waiting for my whole life…

"mamaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

I look down and hear a crunch, but instead of expecting to find my heart broken into a million pieces, I find a bowl full of Cheetos on my lap and a ravenous three year old by my side, struggling to share the space of the small bowl with her mother's daydreaming hand.  I pull my hand out slowly, allowing her ample room to dig in, and blow off the cheesy dust that has collected on my fingertips.  I blow it away, just like my dream…..