I finished a book today that was a reminder that everything falls apart. Nothing can stay as it is forever. Sometimes you can put the pieces back together in a similar way, pretending things are the same as they always were. And sometimes, things fall apart and the pieces will never, ever fit back together. I know all of this, and yet, it was horrifically painful to rediscover that truth at the end of this book. Sometimes things fall apart in ways that we have no control over and sometimes we aid in the unraveling and eventual crumbling. Either way, it is painful, scary, and hard to look at the pieces once they have been ripped from what once was a whole.
While the falling apart in this book had many layers, and the one event that truly made everything shatter was out of everyone’s control, the true sadness did not come in the rapid unraveling of what once was. The heartbreak came when reality came crashing down around everyone. A reality that made it known there is no magic. We can believe in magic all we want, but in the end we are truly just faced with ourselves, the lies we tell ourselves and the false realities we chose to believe in.
I wanted so badly for the magic to be true for these characters that when reality was unveiled, the fact that it had always been there felt all the harsher. What we want and what we chose to believe in are very powerful things. We can choose what we see and what we ignore. We can choose what to believe in. We have the power to hide the ugly truths from ourselves. We also have the power to face these truths. Perhaps everything has already fallen apart and the true pain comes from finally noticing it and acknowledging it.