My life has already arrived. I'm living it right now. It's still moving, of course, I still have some hopes and dreams to aim at, but my life is my life and I am in a constant state of being. I know that sounds hippie-dippie, and I don't care. I'm as happy as a pig in shit, and I don't see why I have to not be happy just because I didn't achieve the things I set out to do when I was eighteen.
When I was eighteen, I wanted to be a fashion designer. A world-famous fashion designer, naturally. Then I discovered that I hated sewing. So I switched over to interior design, and discovered that other people's tastes were not to be countenanced.
So I decided to not be anything except happy, reaching for the next dream in line rather than saving up all my happiness for some distant prospect that may or may not work out. And that was the formula that got me to where I wanted to be.
I went to college and poked around in lower-division waiting to see what sang to me; that happened to be writing. I got through my English lit degree on the assumption that I'd become a teacher, preferably a college professor, but then I had a look at the graduate work (post-Modern deconstructionism was all the rage, and I still don't know what that means) and started to think again, maybe junior college or even high school. Then I got a job as an administrative assistant for a teachers' union, got to see behind the scenes of the teaching profession, and decided that teaching was not for me... but administration definitely was.
And so I have a job I love, administrative assistant in a social services agency. So maybe I have more bosses than clients, so the pay sucks and the 401(k) is more a courtesy than a safety-net, I've got moths in my wallet and I've got duct-tape on my seven-year-old car, I have a way higher balance on my credit-cards than in my savings account... but I'm happy.
Success isn't measured in how highly you're paid, or in how many square feet of house you own (in partnership with a bank), or in how pretty your wife is or how many offspring you manage to unleash upon the world. Success is whether or not you do the thing that makes you happy, and you do it to the best of your ability, even better than you thought your ability would allow, and keep reaching for the next dream.
Bidude, you've reached a point that many of us reached in our twenties, where we have to reevaluate the dreams we dreamed in high school. Honestly, very few people want the same thing in their thirties as they wanted in their teens: the only way to stay the same is to not grow up.