When the Dream Fades: Watching Life Move On Without You

There’s a certain kind of loneliness that doesn’t just come from being alone—it comes from feeling like life is moving forward without you. It’s watching other people do what they love, chase their dreams, travel, and surround themselves with friends, while you sit in the same place, trapped in a cycle that no longer feels like it belongs to you.

I used to have something that gave me purpose. Music wasn’t just a passion; it was the heartbeat of my life. Organizing shows, giving local bands a stage, bringing in national bands so locals could share the same stage with them, bringing people together—it wasn’t just about booking artists or putting on events. It was about creating a space where people belonged, where music brought them together in a way nothing else could. And for years, I poured everything into it—my time, my money, my energy, my heart.

But in May of 2023, that all stopped. That would be my last show. Not because I wanted it to, but because I had no one to help with sound. No one to help with anything on the tour dates I was offered. Without that, I couldn’t make the shows happen. And just like that, something I had given so much of myself to was gone. The dream I had spent years building, the thing that had once defined me, just… disappeared. And while others around me continued to do what they loved, I was left standing still, watching from the sidelines.

For a brief moment, I thought maybe I could start again. I booked a show for October 2024, hoping that somehow, I could find my way back to what I loved. But life had other plans. A death, combined with low ticket sales, made it impossible to move forward. I simply couldn’t afford to cover the show. And just like that, another piece of my dream slipped away.

Now, my days off feel like an endless loop. I wake up, go through the motions, listen to music, and then scroll—TikTok, Facebook, Instagram—watching as other people live their lives. I see them going to concerts, traveling, making memories, surrounded by people who bring them joy. And I sit here, in the same four walls, with my beagles as my only real company. They are loyal, always there, always present. But they can’t fill the void of human connection, of feeling like I’m part of something bigger than just existing.

Loneliness isn’t just about being alone. It’s about feeling unseen. It’s about feeling like what you once had—the thing that gave your life meaning—has been stripped away, and you don’t know how to get it back. It’s about knowing you still have so much love, passion, and creativity inside you, but no place to put it.

And I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. I’ve seen loneliness before—I just didn’t understand it then. I watched my own mother sit alone all the time, waiting, hoping for company, for someone to see her. And I didn’t truly see her until I became her. Until I found myself in her place, feeling that same ache, realizing how easy it is to be surrounded by people and still feel completely alone.

People tell me to find something new, to move on, but when you’ve dedicated so much of yourself to something, it’s not that easy. The fire doesn’t just go out—it lingers, a slow burn, reminding me of everything I lost.

I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know if my dream will ever come back to life or if this loneliness will ever truly fade. But I do know that I’m not alone in this feeling. Maybe one day I will feel whole again. Maybe one day this loneliness will be the one thing that will disappear, but until then I will keep pushing forward. I will keep making sure bills are paid, dogs fed, house cleaned and the music super loud.

Peace, love and loud music to everyone. 🤘

Mickey