I was a believer Long after the other girls got interested in parties and boys
I would sit on my heels on the floor of the school library And stare at the musty shelves of stories, searching for my next fantasy
I was a true believer It seemed strange to me that while all of these characters, my friends, kept finding magic in their worlds mine was devoid and empty I kept wondering, Why not me?
I was sure the magic was just hiding from me Waiting for the right time to show itself Waiting until I was ready to become the heroine Every windy night, every walk into the woods, I would think This time, it will come for me But it never did
I had a book on forest faeries and how to find them After waiting and waiting all of those years Clinging to my last hope, I decided I would give the magic one more chance I went out to my back yard To the perfect faery tree, with all the knots and holes in its trunk And deep red berries stirring gently with the warm breeze I stood under it, hands clasped, eyes closed And waited one last time Please I begged Please
And that was the day I stopped believing
From then on, I was determined to be a rationalist An evidence-only type of girl I switched to kneeling before the science fiction shelves Followed the inventions of today's great tech scape It was magic in its own sort of way
But my metaphoric heart has never quite given up on the romance of true magic It loves it in a tragic, primal sort of way It wants to make my life into a hero journey of fate and destiny It wants there to be something more to this world A something mysterious, a something beautiful All my head and heart seem to do is contradict
A long time ago, I used to be a believer But ever since I decided to give up on magic It seems that magic has refused to set me free.