***Quickly, before the magic wears off***
When I find a story that fits together just right, when it flows like a river and weaves in and out like threads in a tapestry, when the characters become living, breathing beings in my mind; that’s when I feel complete. I hone in on that story and I hold it close, because there is nothing I value more.
But I don’t live in a story. I live in a world with dumb boys who believe chivalry is dead, where the wicked witch isn’t a person but a disease, and where friendship and goodness, while hard to find, aren’t enough to save the day.
I want adventure and magic and love, but all I have are soccer balls and cowardly boys and loneliness. I need wisdom, but there’s no clear answers.