I’m obsessed with fictional characters.
There’s just something about knowing nothing’s real,
and having the solace that any misfortune
goes away when you close the page,
and any joy you can take with you on your day.

On days like today, I need that.
I need to jump into a book,
to pretend like my world isn’t real,
like those that want to hurt the ones I love aren’t real,
that this hate, and injustice, and fear
is all just a figment of my imagination.

I shouldn’t beg for a fictional dictator to materialize into my world.
I shouldn’t believe that someone who was written to be evil
is better than those living.
But I do.

Because how can people be this evil.
How can there be this much hate?
How can people hurt others,
for what?
What do they gain by putting others down?
What do they gain by making the world a worse place?

…I don’t have an answer,
and I don’t think I want to know one.
All I know is that I’m going to keep fighting.
Today, and always,
until those I love, and those I will never get a chance to meet
have the same rights as everyone else.
Until the world is a place I want to live in.
Until the world is so perfect, it’s almost fictional.
Until I don’t want to leave.