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Description
Someone once told me that I need to move on in life.  Stop writing, stop playing around, and admit that I live in reality.

Reality.  Who says I don't have a firm grasp on reality?  I'm currently finishing up my undergraduate degree in psychology and I will be attending law school this fall.  That typically says "grounded."  And yet, I've been told repeatedly that I need to be realistic.  Well, according to these individuals, I was realistic, long ago.  Years in the past, I was utterly and completely, "down to earth."  I did what I was told; I was utterly serious, and I was completely boring.

And then one day, I met a girl who wanted to make a difference in her life.  She wanted to live for something.  Her journey wasn't typical.  She was atypical.  She just wanted to keep living, particularly for others.  Like me, she was told to live in reality, to basically give up her hopes and dreams, anything she personally wanted.  All of it.  But she refused.  She knew what was right, and lived for it.  She went on to make a difference.  She changed the lives of others, while evolving into the best person she could possibly be.  The thing is, she isn't "alive."  She's what most people would consider a fictional character.  But she is most certainly real.

She defined what I truly wanted to do in life: my dream of being a writer.  And yet, people insist that there is something wrong with me.   They insist that something that isn't "real" could not possibly leave that much of an impact.  But they are most certainly wrong.  She did.  Who is she?  She is simply the leading character of my first novel.

Last year I met a boy.  He showed me what it means to love, to care for someone so deeply that all you want is for them to be happy.  All you want is for them to get everything they deserve and want in this world and more.   He showed me that you can love someone so deeply that you are willing to have them live and love someone else for eternity, because you know that is what they want.  He showed me that such things exist in this world.  Through him, I found that magic does exist.  It's the spark of life, the vitality that comes with wanting to live for the future.  Can you then say that the magic of love is not real?  No.  Does it even matter if this boy is real or not?  No, only one thing matters: what he can teach me and what he can teach others.

Fantasy represents more than just magic.  Fantasy includes hopes and dreams, an individual's aspirations.  Sometimes fantasy can seem to be better than reality.  For me fantasy is reality.  The reality of all that is good in this world: the innocence of the child, the glimpse of a brighter future, and the dreams of one individual.

I am one of those individuals who ostensibly tries to see the good in others even when "they" are telling me otherwise.  Something that reality tells me is impossible; people are selfish beings.  But in this case I choose fantasy; learn to trust again, learn to live again, learn that reality is not as set in stone as "they" say.

Reality and fantasy.  They are not polar-opposites.  They are intertwined.  One does not exist without the other.  One cannot exist without the other.  If it does, we will no longer have that laugh, that smile, that joy that makes life worth living.  To those that say I should live in reality, why?  Why should I give up fantasy?  Why should I deny that significant part of me?  To them I say: I'm better having a foot in both worlds.  It's best to see all that they have to offer.

They both have good; they both have evil.  They teach of true human character.  Both realms hold the truth.  It is only through accepting this we can understand that there is something more that our individual struggles, that there is more out there.  Through the two, we can feel the exhilaration of truly living.

To those who say that I should live in reality, to heck with that.  I am not going to give up fantasy; just how I am not going to deny reality.  I shouldn't have to make a choice between the two.  Instead, I choose to live.

Description
Someone once told me that I need to move on in life.  Stop writing, stop playing around, and admit that I live in reality.

Reality.  Who says I don't have a firm grasp on reality?  I'm currently finishing up my undergraduate degree in psychology and I will be attending law school this fall.  That typically says "grounded."  And yet, I've been told repeatedly that I need to be realistic.  Well, according to these individuals, I was realistic, long ago.  Years in the past, I was utterly and completely, "down to earth."  I did what I was told; I was utterly serious, and I was completely boring.

And then one day, I met a girl who wanted to make a difference in her life.  She wanted to live for something.  Her journey wasn't typical.  She was atypical.  She just wanted to keep living, particularly for others.  Like me, she was told to live in reality, to basically give up her hopes and dreams, anything she personally wanted.  All of it.  But she refused.  She knew what was right, and lived for it.  She went on to make a difference.  She changed the lives of others, while evolving into the best person she could possibly be.  The thing is, she isn't "alive."  She's what most people would consider a fictional character.  But she is most certainly real.

She defined what I truly wanted to do in life: my dream of being a writer.  And yet, people insist that there is something wrong with me.   They insist that something that isn't "real" could not possibly leave that much of an impact.  But they are most certainly wrong.  She did.  Who is she?  She is simply the leading character of my first novel.

Last year I met a boy.  He showed me what it means to love, to care for someone so deeply that all you want is for them to be happy.  All you want is for them to get everything they deserve and want in this world and more.   He showed me that you can love someone so deeply that you are willing to have them live and love someone else for eternity, because you know that is what they want.  He showed me that such things exist in this world.  Through him, I found that magic does exist.  It's the spark of life, the vitality that comes with wanting to live for the future.  Can you then say that the magic of love is not real?  No.  Does it even matter if this boy is real or not?  No, only one thing matters: what he can teach me and what he can teach others.

Fantasy represents more than just magic.  Fantasy includes hopes and dreams, an individual's aspirations.  Sometimes fantasy can seem to be better than reality.  For me fantasy is reality.  The reality of all that is good in this world: the innocence of the child, the glimpse of a brighter future, and the dreams of one individual.

I am one of those individuals who ostensibly tries to see the good in others even when "they" are telling me otherwise.  Something that reality tells me is impossible; people are selfish beings.  But in this case I choose fantasy; learn to trust again, learn to live again, learn that reality is not as set in stone as "they" say.

Reality and fantasy.  They are not polar-opposites.  They are intertwined.  One does not exist without the other.  One cannot exist without the other.  If it does, we will no longer have that laugh, that smile, that joy that makes life worth living.  To those that say I should live in reality, why?  Why should I give up fantasy?  Why should I deny that significant part of me?  To them I say: I'm better having a foot in both worlds.  It's best to see all that they have to offer.

They both have good; they both have evil.  They teach of true human character.  Both realms hold the truth.  It is only through accepting this we can understand that there is something more that our individual struggles, that there is more out there.  Through the two, we can feel the exhilaration of truly living.

To those who say that I should live in reality, to heck with that.  I am not going to give up fantasy; just how I am not going to deny reality.  I shouldn't have to make a choice between the two.  Instead, I choose to live.