We live in a fairytale world of wonder and tragedy, where darkness is pitted against starlight and battles between good and evil happen everyday. Every day is a fight between love and hate, joy and despair, life and death.

Every day is a fight to hope.

Yet for all the twists and turns, for all the pain and tears, we know how fairytales end. Like little children at the edge of our seats, we anticipate what is to come. Marked by a battle between the hero and the villain, fighting to win the heart and life of the Bride, we are expectant. The Hero always emerges triumphant.

The tension is this: our fairytale didn’t happen once upon a time. It started from the beginning of time and it is happening still. We are not anymore in Eden. We are not twirling in a world of roses, sparkles all around. We are smackdab in the middle of the drama and the chaos, living in a warzone where there is a violent clash of swords and kingdoms. And so we anticipate the horrible and never embrace the beautiful long enough because we’re waiting for the clock to strike midnight, somehow convinced that every wonderful thing we hold right now is bound to be taken away.

But even when the magic fades, even when the evil villains reappear and it seems like they are winning, we can get our hopes up. For when it seems like all is lost, the Prince comes in h
His white horse, ready to save the day.

No matter how many more pages it takes, we know how the story ends. We know who truly wins. We know how it goes.

Happily ever after. Until then, the story is not over. Until then, it is not the end.

“I am concerned with a certain way of looking at life, which was created in me by fairytales, but has since been ratified by the mere facts.”
-G. K. Cherston

Originally posted on Instagram – Nov. 18, 2017. Modified.

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