What do I believe in?
(Aside from refraining from proper grammar?) I believe in what I write. I believe in magic. I believe in love.
For centuries and centuries, thousands of authors and writers have spun wonderful tales of magic; far off places were impossible becomes possible and dreams come true (if you only have a bit of pixie dust!). Sadly, or maybe not so, magic only exists in minds.
I’ve spent most of my life in my mind; a fantastic world where responsibility doesn’t exist, everyone likes everyone, and the impossible becomes probable becomes reality. As I grow up, I realize this fantastical world in which I live is a pipe dream. Slaving away, four hours at a time, by folding clothes really does a number on one’s imagination. The heart-breaking snares of reality press upon us, the youth of the world, as we are (more likely than not) forced into the workforce by a power not tangible by flesh or blood: our future. Something that scares even the toughest jock into fits of girlish sobs. Say you don’t get that football scholarship to Notre Dame. Say you don’t ace your SATs. Say you don’t have enough money to pay your way through law school. Don’t get me wrong, I completely agree with strictures and stipulations for college; it’s just damn hard to think about when you’re so close to making it but you just don’t cut it. That’s when you feel the farthest away from your dreams.
I digress. I aimed to talk about love in this post. Magic, as I’ve stated, is the human’s natural instinct to believe in to escape from reality. And also as I’ve stated, magic, at least the spells and incantations, doesn’t exist in this world. We do have something, I think, that is even better than magic, and that’s love.
Love is such a fickle thing. It can be the happiest, most innocent, purest form of joy one can experience. When you realize you’re in love, desperately in love, it feels as though your heart can’t take anymore feeling; that it isn’t yours anymore. Love can be the end-all-be-all for those lucky enough to experience and share it with someone for the duration of their lives.
Love can also kill its victims, which I’m willing to bet more than half of you have experienced. Love can crush a soul, cruelly rip it to shreds and bring down the most powerful of leaders. Once you experience that pain, there is nothing you wouldn’t do to get rid of it; but at the same time, you don’t want to give it up. It makes you who you are. I’m talking about the lost love: a mother dying; a husband gone without one look back. To the former, it at least puts a heart to some kind of distressed rest to know that person probably loved you until the very end, and they will always stay with you. The latter, though, is something I would never, ever wish upon anyone because, like I’ve said, it can kill. You think, after the sweetness of the love is gone and the bitterness sets in your heart, how could I delude myself into thinking I was happy? How, for those few moments, was I able to hold onto something pure, and then let it slip through my grasp? I don’t deny that I’ve been slighted once or twice in my short life; of course I have. I’m in high school. It’s practically a right of passage.
Still, back to love and magic. I’ve gone into great detail of what a destruction love can be, but I also described the amazing feeling it can bring to you. And, essentially, isn’t that exactly what magic does? It heals, or it destroys. Take the apple in Snow White; the wheel in Sleeping Beauty; the Ring of Power in the Lord of the Rings. Each item has broken down those who stood in its way of destruction. But then, look at the love of Harry’s mom in Harry Potter; the love of Yvaine in Stardust, the power of the Elves in Lord of the Rings. Not only does love play a double role, but these instances show the healing magic had in these fantasies.
So yes, I do believe in magic. But a different kind of magic. A lovely one.