there are white Christmas lights in my living room's windows.
when I was little, I remember spending a lot of time looking at them.
I would stay there at night between the window and the dark curtains, when no one was in the room.
I just looked at them for so long till they looked like snow. In those dark nights I would whisper a pray to anyone who would listen.
"Please let me have magic"
I don't know why I stood there for so long every year and made the same wish.
I knew it wouldn't happen, that magic doesn't exist, at least in the way books and movies show it, but there I was. Year after year.
I just felt so different from everything and everyone around me, that maybe, I thought, I'm not even supposed to be here. Maybe I have magic powers and they are just scared to let me know because they think I'll tell everyone. So then I would whisper, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, I promise".
Nothing ever happened tho. But I just kept asking, for something, for someone to come and tell me that I was not wrong or damaged, I was just in the wrong place.
A few years later I read Harry Potter and my hopes were high again. That was what I wanted. Not the evil person trying to kill me or being the main character and the hero of a story. I just wanted someone to take me somewhere magical with people like me, who also felt all wrong and broken.
That person never came.
And the people like me never showed up.
But I kept wishing at stars, christmas lights, birthday candles for those magical powers to appear.
they never did. I kept feeling empty has if something was missing.
I'm older now. but I still try to control the wind, or how much a candle flicks or the order of christmas lights, or try to make things move with my mind.
I know it's childish but I can't help it, I still feel like I'm not supposed to be here. That's what I think when someone asks me what I want to do with my life, "I'm not even supposed to be here, how should I know? ".
I feel like the big man forgot my house, or the letter went to the wrong address. And they forgot about me. Because this can't be what it was meant for me. Not when I think something is missing.
every year I just get a little bit more used to it. and to the fact that no one will ever show up. it's almost like the part of me, a little girl, that still believes she is more than this empty shell, is asleep most of the time.
and then Christmas comes, and the little girl awakes and realizes everything is still the same as it was one year ago, and five years ago. and she gets really sad, because she is still alone and that small and innocent girl starts to believe that's how she's going to be forever.
But then, she watches a movie or reads a book and gets a little bit less blue. because if that kind of magic is possible there's still hope for her.
And she sleeps again, only occasionally waking up from time to time, when things get really bad and never mind my age I whisper to myself over and over again,
"Please let me be magical, I promise I won't ever tell anyone I just can't keep going like this, this can't be my world"
But who ever is able to give that said magic just mocks the little girl.
So the girl needs to get up on her own without anyone to help her or dry her tears.
And the hopeful little girl who was so sure that magic is inside her just waiting to bloom, starts hating it a little more every time she asks and her wish is denied.
And a whole year passes and Christmas comes again, and the little girl awakes and wishes a bit more.
She still loves magic and she always will because deep down she knows that even though the man forgot her or the letter was never sent, she is magical and although she doesn't know yet how to, she will find a way to make that magic bloom.
But sometimes the movies and books she loves so much make her so angry (anger that covers a deep sadness), because it feels like they are mocking her, that they have everything she wants so badly and will never have. But that is something she keeps to herself, and I prefer to ignore. After all she is just a little girl, and still thinks the world is a marvelous and fair place.
Me, I'll keep wishing of course, because who are we without our little selves inside us? they remind us that we all, even if just for a second believed in magic. And that is something one should never forget.
But while I wait for that magic to appear, I want to try and find it myself. I know it's out there. Maybe not in a conventional way, with wands and spells, fairies and giants, but I know there's some kind of magic out there, don't ask me how I just do.
I'll keep looking in books, movies and especially in people. I will try to look for the magic I feel in myself in other people. And maybe they'll do the same with me.
But for now, it's late and I'm tired.
The lights are off and it's dark outside. The Christmas tree lights the room and my beloved white lights are on the windows. I can look for magic in an unconventional way tomorrow.
Tonight I will let the little girl take over, the one who still believes in fairies and giants, spells and wands, magical castles and a world full of people like her. And once more I'll say my little prayer to anyone who wants to listen,
"Please let me be magical, this world is too cruel,
I wanna go home"