#and now trying to detach from that

saferincages:

sometimes my mind will drift to my favorite characters, and i’ll think, “i hope they’re okay today! i hope they’re safe and feeling loved somewhere,” or i’ll worry, “have they eaten? slept? are they remembering to take care of themselves?” and it’s silly, because of course they’re not really real, i don’t have to be concerned for them, and there’s an abstract level where i cognizantly am aware of this

but in a lot of those moments, because i know other people do this too, i think that love and concern and tenderness for these people who reside in our minds and hearts is a subtle expression of looking after ourselves, even if we don’t fully recognize it at first. we wish them things we may hesitate to allow ourselves to wish in reality, but it still is an expression of hope for our own lives

and who’s to say those feelings are ever wasted? who’s to say that in a vast, swirling, unknowable universe, a universe that may in fact be a tiny shimmering square on a tiny corner of a tapestry of infinite other universes - who’s to say that all the stories aren’t true? that we don’t somehow make things real simply by believing in them? who’s to say that somewhere, in that endless space, some version of that character we love isn’t out there, relying on and absorbing those caring thoughts?

even if they do only exist in us, the internal workings of our individual universes are so vast and unique that, indeed, simply being a part of us means they do live. those characters and stories exist in what we do, how we learn, the meaning we glean from carrying them along with us on our own journeys

that’s why i will never allow anyone to tell me that loving an unreal thing is not a real expression of love. if you think of them in the songs you hear, or when you see a certain painting or read a certain line of poetry, if you think of them when you’re feeling lost and scared and alone, or when you’re feeling comfortable and peaceful and happy, if they give you courage in the midst of frightening things or add joy to your day, if they teach you something meaningful or you can see an admirable aspiration in them or you can use them to better understand a reflection in yourself, that’s all real love, capable of transformation and transcendence and healing

so if we wake up and wonder if our favorites are doing well today, maybe in some other fold in the cosmos, they’re holding that same wonderment for us; or maybe, in hoping it for them, we eventually grow to be able to hope it for ourselves