I've Just Opened My Eyes for the First Time

Friend, imagine waking up to pixie dust tickling your nose. Imagine witnessing the very moment a beast transforms into a handsome, young prince. Imagine all the books you’ve ever read, all the stories you’ve ever been told, all the songs you’ve ever listened to, opening their eyes all at once. It’s as if a thousand clouds that’ve been covering the sun for longer than a thousand years have suddenly been pushed away in a millisecond and you are suddenly basking under something you’ve always thought was forbidden or even impossible.

 

You’ve just undone the bolts on a window that’s been closed since the moment of your creation, like the others had done before you, the ones that stand in front of you, now.

 

It is the spontaneous shut-down-deletion-murder of your beliefs that you’ve been holding onto like a baby holds on to a lifesaver in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for just so long. Does the feeling give birth to you, does it bring you into this world again, from a different womb? Or does it condemn you to Hell?

Either way, it churns your stomach so much so that you breathe like you’re dying again and you are instantly sick. Beg for mercy, cry for the sake of it. You just want to clutch your abdomen and let your old life out of your system for good. D****t, get it out. Let it lie there, let it lie there on the glittering, shimmering, glowing, shining ground. Look at it, look away, glare at it, look away. But know that you’ll have to walk away from it someday and face the reality. The reality of fairies and wizards and witches and ghosts and unicorns and angels and demons and the Mad Hatter. I’ve just opened my eyes for the first time, friend. And you will, too.