Perfect image

When I was a kid, I had a perfect image of what I wanted to be, and how I wanted to be when I grew up.
But everyday that passes you comprimise that image and you accept things aren't quite the way you want them to be but you're ok with it.

And before you know it....all of the image has faded away and you have comprimised a little bit of that perfect image each day and one day you realize all you have got left is what you are right now. There is no image anymore...this is who you are. And this is all you are ever going to be.

What happens to a man who has traded away all his dreams to reach this point?