"Everything dies, Agent Mulder."

I remember this scene quite well, and today it's relevant to my life. Today, our dream died. We have a 5 acre parcel about an hour and a half away. There's a rustic cabin, beautiful land, good people in the area. We can't build there now...blame what you will, but costs have skyrocketed over the last couple of years, and financial burdens have increased. We got an offer on the property, and it's a very, very good one. We'll turn a handsome profit.

Money is the residue that's left behind when a dream is torn asunder. I know no happy rich people, and I've known many. Sure...we'll have a decent pile of cash...but it isn't enough.

Tonight, I sit at my desk, an old fashioned in hand, and think of what might have been. Mrs. Cobb is devastated. That's what hurts me the most. HER dream is torn, and it kills me. I may shy away a few days so I don't say anything untoward—my temper is like my namesake's...quick and unrelenting...and I don't want someone here to receive what they aren't entitled to.

Join me tonight if you're so inclined, and raise a toast to shattered dreams. They crush you when they die...but something better usually comes down the road. That's where my eye is. Say a prayer or send happy thoughts Mrs. Cobb's way if you would. I'm a hard old man most days, but she's the one person I have nothing but gentleness for.

To all of you, as always, I have only good wishes. Tonight, and only tonight, I wallow. Tomorrow is another day.