magic

it is so easy to get caught up in the idea of something, the hope of something and belief that if you just look at what you want to see or what you hope to see and turn away from anything unnerving, any dark evidence, you can magically transform something into an existence that you define. does this stem from years of practice..?

falling in and out of the worlds i created as a little girl was effortless. as a reigning princess in my created land i would defy the laws of nature. running free through the woods that awaited out my backdoor i would quickly disconnect from rational thinking and immerse myself in imagination.

this was a wonderful thing as a girl and a dangerous, ambiguous thing as a woman. i was a woman chasing girlhood dreams, the hazy clouds of youth concealed the land i would live in as a woman. i was a girl the day I walked down that isle, chasing a whisper in the fog, a memory of a promise made in our youth.

eventually the spell broke. i woke up. a woman emerged.

i painfully accepted what was, and walked out of the woods back to my house, the home i had known inside my heart. time doesn’t wait, and it made choices for me when i was too afraid to make my own. there is really no such thing as indecision. you either lead the choice, or follow.

seems that some spells are easily cast. because here i sit, this princess now a queen, raising a child. a sweet young prince who routinely takes my hand as we run free amongst the trees. this is a magical world of a boy and his mama. this is not the way the storybook reads. this is not the world most wish for, including me at times. times of exhaustion or times of fear. it is then that i find myself suspended between a world of fact and fiction. the fiction of a father for this beautiful boy. the fact that he does exist and the hope that one day that *man* will feel this little spirit, for he too has held this mystical boys hand. yet, he can only exist out of the power of his schemes, his pitiable, repeated stories, that all lead to cruelty. his energy is built of anger and imbalance. a limited view, one that lacks depth.

as the queen in my land, i endure these attempts to assail. i shield the child, both the one in my heart and the one now living in my home. i tell myself that perhaps in time, or perhaps if i just wish i will transform this father into becoming more than just a walk to the park once a month.

i’ve grown weary of the attacks. i realize that once again i am living in a fantasy, once again ignoring the obvious. and once again, letting time make choices for me. in an effort to protect my freedom and peace in this world, i lay out the law of this land, and demand it be followed. for it is a generous and forgiving law, more than deserved, yet, without it, there is no order and suffering ensues. and in this simple act of reminding him of the parenting plan, i am reminded of the truth. that this daddy is only that in name. and then poof just like magic...he was gone.

within a day, he left town -- the city that he floats in and out of with no notice. he needs a break he tells me. has ‘things’ he needs to do and cannot abide to any plan that was designed to keep this little boy boundless yet safe. he adds that maybe we will hear from him again in a few years.

a break…from what? from never parenting. from false attempts to see your child? or maybe it is a break from the harassment, the endless pursuit of control.

his break is my reprieve. balance and peace have been restored. i had forgotten how good this life can feel. that magic doesn't need to be fiction. and how simple it was to merely wake up.