I used to dream of unicorns, princesses, and fairies. I used to count raindrops as they slide down the window’s glass. I used to wish on these tiny little white dots which I recognized later on as ‘stars’. I used to believe in pots of gold at rainbow ends. I used to think that magic is real. I used to think that I’m special and then sooner or later I’ll get my Hogwarts letter or maybe discover my super powers. I used to trust anyone who has a nice smile.
But I grew up and it dawned on me that the unicorns, princesses, and fairies don’t exist. People happened. And they told me that nothing was special with the raindrops. Textbooks made me realize that I was wishing on a star that’s a million lightyears dead. There are no pots of gold at rainbow ends. If I wanted some gold, I shouldn’t look for a pot of gold. I should study hard, get a degree, get myself a job and then work hard until I die. I became rational that I figured I would not receive any letter nor discover my super powers – magic does not exist. Through the years, I learned not to trust anyone but myself. People come and go. They mess you up and leave. Not everyone who has a nice smile is kind. Not everyone who compliments you considers you as his or her friend.
People happened and I grew up. That’s why I stopped believing in those lies above.