He got out of bed hours ago. He’d sat on the old bus, sang the old songs and dreamt the old dreams. But now it was real. Years of unconditional love would be defined by the next few hours. He was prepared for the overwhelming emotion he was feeling. He had perspective now and that helped. He knew there was more to life than this. The events of the last year had taught him that. The arguments, the bitterness and the painful goodbyes. He’d changed in so many ways. The break-up he’d seen coming. The sudden death of his father was a terrible shock. But the thought of this day, this place, had helped him through the worst of times. He’d dreamt of it for as long as he remembered dreaming about anything. So he lingered for a moment at the top of the steps. He thought of the twin towers and the men who once ruled the world. He thought of the tales his Dad told him of coming here in the 1970’s. Stories of beer and cigarettes and victory against the odds. His Dad would have loved this. But this wasn’t about yesterday.  It was about today. His day. His lifelong dream. His turn to stand and sing and hope. He smiled and started down the steps towards the crowds. There were thousands here, all like him. Each with their own story and their own version of the dream. Yes, there was more to life than this. But not today.