The Wheel of Time Was Just Getting Juicy

The Wheel Was Turning…

Dear Gabrielle,

It’s not that I didn’t dream last night. I did. I know I did.

It was long and layered. Engaging. Dramatic. I can still feel the aftertaste—faint, like perfume in a hallway long emptied. It’s right there, sitting on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t grasp it.

Maybe it’s because of what I was watching before I fell asleep.
The Wheel of Time.
Still catching up—even though I already know it was cancelled after Season 3.

The knowledge dulled the joy. But I went to bed muttering to myself, Fucking fuckheads. Cancelling just when things were getting juicy…

And they were.

Nynaeve had gotten her spark back.
Egwene and the Dragon Reborn’s affair with Lanfear. Not sure how I feel about Egwene.
One of the Forsaken was killed—by another. I liked Moghedien.
Rand channeled the One Power and was declared Car’a’carn. Rand is so mediocre.
Moiraine nearly slayed Lanfear. I hate Lanfear.

And then came the coup.
The Amyrlin Seat—overthrown.
Siuan Sedai—executed. Her fall was catastrophic. Damaging. And irreversible.

The Story That Ended Too Soon

And then—it ended.

Abruptly. Too soon. The pacing suddenly shifted.
No closure. No resolution.
And it left a hole. Not just in the plot, but in me.

I don’t remember all the scenes in my dream—but I know it was a world gone mad. A world where the laws didn’t apply anymore. Where you fought, not because you understood, but because not fighting meant vanishing.

Maybe it was my brain’s way of writing a better ending.
Maybe my subconscious was warning me—don’t wait for closure. You may never get it.

The Dream Fades in Fragments

What I do remember is this:
I hit snooze.
Once.
Twice.
Five times.

Each time, the dream returned—but fainter.
More fragmented. More seductive.
With every “just five more minutes,” the clarity dulled.
Until I woke up—with nothing but the ghost of a story I couldn’t tell.

Gabrielle, this is what snoozing life feels like.

Snoozing Is a Slow Betrayal

We think we’re giving ourselves a break. A little more rest. A little more time.

But what we’re really doing is eroding our momentum.
We’re stealing time from the things that matter.
From the work. From the purpose. From the joy.

We snooze on hard conversations.
On our healing.
On love.
On our dreams.

We wait for the perfect moment.
We let the world turn while we linger in half-sleep, believing we’ll catch up later.

But sometimes, later never comes.

Sometimes the series is cancelled.
Sometimes the dream slips away.
Sometimes the story ends before we’re ready.

Don’t Wait for the Next Season

So, Gabby, don’t snooze on your life.

Even if the dream is blurry—wake up anyway.
Even if the story is half-told—start writing anyway.
Even if the show was cancelled—live like it still has another season.

Because life has no reruns.

And the dream, like time, doesn’t wait.

The wheel must turn.

With love.