Real? Real depends upon your perspective, Annabelle. People never see life exactly the same way. The world is what you think it is.

I made a sorry face in response to such strong insistence, but I couldn’t believe him. Fantasies were exactly that―fantasies. Whimsy. Wishes. Mere castles in the sky without foundation or substance. Dreams didn’t come true. To believe so would be to believe falsely, to surrender to madness, to give in to an unreliable hope that would crush me once again as it always, always did!

There are things that make no sense,that seem unreal,that can’t be grasped or understoodor explained,that maybe don’t even exist…And still, somehow, those wonderful things touch and change our lives.Isn’t it strange?

Eena had thought the whole idea of his picture was absolutely wonderful and had asked Willum what kind of animal she might be. He’d responded after only a moment of thought. “I think you’d be a crioness.” “Why is that?” “Because they can fly.” “Why would that remind you of me?” She’d been unable to guess his reasoning. “Because few animals can fly. You can do things others can’t do. Like flying. It’s magic.” “Oh. How very clever.” The comparison had left her both impressed and flattered.

Imagine fantasy and pretend as neither fantastical nor pretended.....and then believe it.

I live in two unique worlds, traveling between both with just the opening or closing of my eyes.

Who in their right minds fought against the kind of joy I felt at simply thinking about my enviable situation? I was fortunate. I was comfortable. I was happy. And I hated it.

I hate you, Edgar. I hate you with all my heart.

I survive on moments of make-believe happiness.