Sometimes it strikes me right to the heart knowing that magic doesn’t exist.
Knowing that there will be no lightning strike, no sudden and unexplainable reason I can read someones thoughts.
It makes me sadder than thinking I’ll go my whole life without my soulmate. All the stories, all the imagination that goes into our mystical worlds. It’s there to inspire us, to help guide us.
What I wouldn’t give for it to be real. A whimsical wish considering that’s how many of the stories begin and then the protagonist later wishes to rescind that thought.
Still, I am reminded in my dreams that even when I was little “Superhero” was what I wanted to be when I grew up.
Dreams are probably as close as I will get in my lifetime but if there is a day when we have evolved or made ourselves extraordinary, I hope we don’t…
View original post 56 more words