Reality

Reality isn't something we learn to realize we're living in, but rather something some people know and live with. Not much can be said for others that honestly believe their fantasy words are real and are exactly how everyone around them perceives Reality to be.
It doesn’t hit you. Not like a bus, or a train, or even a slap in the face. You don’t wake up one morning and suddenly realize that everything you’ve ever said and thought was a fiction that you made up the day your parents shoved you out into the real world. There isn’t a magical little click in your brain that tells you to pull your head out of the clouds. No, Reality doesn’t quite happen that way. In fact, I believe Reality was made for those who are born brave and unimaginative. Who else could possibly face the world and not have a way to block out the horror?
You see, it’s simple really. I don’t live in Reality. Let me tell you my fantasy life.
Let’s start with how I realize too much. I think if I lived in Reality, everyday things that occur to every single time, to every single person in the world would be less memorable. Such as the way milk pours, lapsing over itself or the way a dog is always happy to see its owner, regardless of how it’s been treated. Those things are the same for everyone, right?
Well, I notice them every single time I see them. I take them into account and think of new ways to describe them, capturing pictures and words to match. So tell me, why can’t I ever seem to describe my own life, the things that happen to me? I always notice that too- my lack of ability to tell someone exactly what’s happening to me, what’s going on in my mind.The only conclusion I can seem to come to? I’m afraid.