Reality

It is not incredibly common to find a book the reminds you of your childhood dreams. Reminders of hidden passageways and daring adventures that make life glimmer with new possibilities.

I found one today, or rather yesterday. I have spent the last 48 hours drinking in this new gem, wholly engrossed in its pages. That is when you know you’ve found a diamond in the rough. When your surroundings take a backseat and your senses are overwhelmed with a new world, a new life.

A book can change a life. Not in any material way but maybe in a way that adds shadow and depth to an imagination, that changes a persons perceptions ever so slightly. It may not be for the better but it is still there.

My book added some depth to my day. A story of a boy, young and brilliant, assailed with tragedy, romance, and the heroism of youth. It made secret passageways and fantastical events seem almost possible again.

It also made me ache for a reality that I can’t reach in my waking hours. Walking home was like coming out of a deep sleep. It started with the strong belief in the impossible and then, as slow as a winters chill, reality crept into the edges of my vision.

Reality is a cruel thing, crueler than any word or person. A word may sting and a person may cause pain for awhile but reality can withstand the breadth of time. Pain will fade but reality is forever a thorn in my side.

Without reality I can have my passageways.

Without reality I can be a child.

Unfortunately, until I can escape reality I will be here and I will continue to dream my own reality.

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