As a lover of books, I have traveled to different places and lived different lives. I have become both good and evil, a princess, a knight, a lover, a mother, an accountant, a musician, a man, a teacher and lots more. More often than not, I get too immersed in what I’m reading that I tend to fall in love with the counterpart of the protagonist. It is from the pleasure of living in an alternate reality, even if just for a while that my passion for writing began to bloom.
I began writing silly poems that rhymes. I made short stories about a world outside the human dimension. I created a world where magic exists and no one condemns it or thinks of it as evil. It was just natural and celebrated. Sometimes I even wish my writing will suck me in and it will all be real. I will see my creation come to life. Of course, there will be that handsome knight in shining armor, a gentleman of a royal blood who will court me and soon become my significant other.
With just some dust of imagination, anything can happen. As I grow older, my writing reflected more and more of my heart. My writing was full of hopelessness, of misery, of a broken heart. No metaphors can hide that what I was writing is a pigment of myself. Still, I needed it. Writing is not just an escape anymore, it is an outlet. It is where I can show people my most vulnerable side without being afraid of what they shall think of me after.
Then one day, there was this man that intrigued me. He is four years my senior and an acquaintance. There was something about him that caught my eye. I knew the moment that I saw him that he will play a special role in my life.-and he did. I often talk to him with whatever comes to mind, and later on, he became a confidante. His character intrigued so much so that I began stalking him (he was aware of it). I began to make him my muse. I started writing poems, pretending of a romance with him. I kept on writing of a different version of our story, where we’re not just friends but two people falling for each other. He was my muse, the greatest one I have ever had.
What I never expected was for my writing to start coming to life. The things I’m writing, they ended up being true. It took a while before we get where we are now but we did. And so, the writer has fallen in love with her muse and with the grace of His Almighty, the beloved muse, has loved the writer, his number one reader, back.
Now we are no longer fiction. We are no longer just poems and scribbles of notes written on a bunch of paper. Now, we are real and we are infinite.