Why do I love a good fantasy when Sci-fi was never my thing? I had never considered the ‘fantasy’ aspect of Sci-fi first of all, but maybe because anything can happen in a fantasy world.

The adventures are more exciting because of the tricky trolls and rhyming riddles. The integrity of man is more valued than the latest gadget and love is an honor never to be taken lightly. The beautiful creatures are not just the women, but the sprites, mermaids, muses, and more; the unicorn and gryphon are found only in the land of fantasy.

Is fantasy really a fantasy or a manifestation of other worlds? An existential reaching of where we have been or a parallel world? Perhaps, another fantasy…

If this is hell, then my story doesn’t end well. I want to be in Happily Ever After world. This place feels like hell.

I love fantasy because the mind can be free. It is not restricted by reality and squashed. When you trap the mind, or trap anything, it desires to be free more than when it was actually free. Why? Because it knows the greatness that sweet freedom was compared to this hell. In fantasy anything is possible; time does not exist because happily ever after is forever.

I like ABC’s Once Upon a Time so far; it’s off to a great start. I love the parallels and how real reality is in comparison to the fairy fantasy. I love the fantasy; Prince Charming and his beloved with their faith and love for/in each other…of course it has me. Where my sister feels fooled by the fairy tales, I feel like I’m just missing the story somehow. Somehow, if I can figure out how to ‘write’ the ‘right’, I will get my happy ending.

But I am so scared. Because I can’t do it on my own. Obviously. But more than that, my heart is swimming in my pain and it feels like I’m drowning. I am suffocating myself. Because I can’t not love. I can’t not help. I can’t not care. I can’t not give. Give. Give. Give.

And you don’t understand; I give it happily. It is not the lack of ‘getting mine’ that puts me asunder; it’s that I don’t feel loved.

Before you naysayers say your say about giving stuff to make people love you, LISTEN: it’s not like that at all. I do it because either they need me to and I care, or I care and have thought about them that much to give it to them; it makes me happy. Why? Why else you knuckleheads? If they are happy, how can I be sad that they are not? And not that I would ever want them to be happy just so I can be, what you don’t see is that I am on cloud nine when they are truly happy. When they put up a front, I can only love them through it, but when they are truly happy, I enjoy the positive energy they radiate.

If you can’t feel the real energy of people around you, perhaps you have not surrounded yourself by a lot of positive energy?

Or maybe I just live a fantasy; either way, I feel happy when they are happy. I just want to feel loved too.

I want my happily ever after. Without having to write a fantasy.