It has been over a year since he left me. Or maybe more accurately I forced him to finally admit he was already gone. During my time with him, things were good, things were bad, things were just part of life. I can see now that the relationship became toxic because I did not take a stand when i needed to. I have to admit my part in allowing myself to be abused and take responsibility for my actions as a result of the pain i felt.
For a year now, I have not pushed myself to believe that there is more to life that what is in front of me. Stark, stale, boring reality. In some ways, seeing the world this way has been great. I do not want more than i have. I do not push to do more than i am capable of. But also, I do not believe the world can be changed or that my voice matters. I am not that significant. Things related to imagination have been more difficult to do. Even playing a card game I have played since I was 6 or 7. Magic, the gathering; I love the game. Always have.
In middle school I played with my best friends, Tim, Jeff, and Jason. Before that I dreamed of being an Artist for Wizards of the Coast. I wanted to be able to make beautiful, magical things that gave joy to people. I wanted people to have something special, like I have found in the game. Playing with Tim, Jeff, and Jason solidified that. They were my family because mine was kind of terrible. I still have everyone’s favorite card. I am 32, I have no pictures of family in my home, but i have 3 cards that i cherish from them. But, I cannot play the game anymore. I can barely sort cards or build a deck. I get anxious, I wonder why i am wasting my time. What skills am I gaining? Who cares that I know about wizards or goblins or chain casting spells to a fun and unpredictable outcome?
What if thinking i can understand someone based on their play style and card choice has always been a delusion? I have actually structured types of therapy, and socialization exercises based on my experiences and studies. But I cannot bring myself to believe it can create anything worthwhile because it is not the concrete comfort I have settled into since the end of that difficult relationship.
But, I miss it. I miss the imagination it took to believe that old or existing concepts hold the keys to improving the world, whether it be person by person, system by system, or in a grand wave. I miss the confidence I had when I believed that there would be a moment when I connect just the right ideas, like chaining spells, and something fun and unpredictable would emerge. I am not a sorcerer. I live in a land without magic. However, I do not want to feel like wishing I can be like a sorcerer is not just childish but potentially seen as though I do not understand reality.
I believe that I understand reality too much. I believe that the reason we have these stories and these fantasies is because collectively we understand something that when we try to describe it, all that comes out is dragons, swords, magic, and heroes. Reality is what we collectively make it. One person, yelling about dragons on a street corner is said to be insane. But if we stop and hear that person’s terror or maybe even their joy in their encounter with this dragon, there maybe a magic in it we have yet to discover.
I have this idea for a guild. A structure that goes beyond the boundaries that have appeared around me. The idea has promise. But, I am not sure how to make it more than an idea, more than the sleeping dragon no one wants to hear about, more than the idea we can introduce magic into this land.
I do not like the fact I gave up on my Guild Called Fairytale. Even if I am the only member, I want to share the idea that there is more beyond what can feel like a stark, stale, boring reality. Spells are nothing more than finding the right combination of words that change someone’s reality. I do what I do because no matter how much I try to, I cannot out run that belief. I will always want to be a sorcerer and the guildmaster of A Guild Called Fairytale.