What Could Have Been

Magic

Ain't it funny how we all know magic tricks are just illusions, yet every time we watch magicians do the same damn thing over and over again, perplexity still runs through us, unwavering? The looks of amazement on our faces, the sounds of wonder, almost some kind of innocence filling the room... That's what fuels these magicians to keep on showing off the tricks they've mastered. That's what keeps them coming back to the stage to mess with our minds.

And we let them. Every god damn time we let them go up the stage to do nothing but make us go crazy as we ask ourselves the same question: how? How the hell do these magicians, these normal-looking people with seemingly extraordinary powers trick us into believing, with our heart, that all of it is real, despite knowing that it isn't, that it's all an illusion? How do they manage to keep us coming back for more?

This is the mystery. The mystery is not in the magic tricks themselves, like a rabbit pulled out of a hat or a woman sawn in half. The mystery is not in the magic words magicians utter or the wand they hold. The mystery is in the way we, humans, know what is real and what is not, yet we refuse to believe in facts and we let our hearts win over our minds.

I've watched a hundred magic shows and seen a thousand magic tricks, but no magician is as good as you. You made me believe. Tricked me. I knew that. And I let you because believing is easier than accepting the truth. That's why they say knowledge is pain.

I am the walking mystery. To this day, I believe in the truths I've made up in my mind. I believe in your tricks. I believe in everything you do. How you do it, I do not know. But a magician never reveals their tricks.

Ah, love, when I say everything you do is magic, I really do mean it.