I see magic in the world.
Not the kind of magic where you assume that everyone has a good side. Not the kind of magic that contributes to the outpouring of sickeningly sweet Disney movies.  No, I see the real magic.
Magic isn’t fantasy.  Fantasy isn’t magic. Fantasy and magic is reality. It all depends who you ask. I’ve always known it was there. As a child, I was always the one that became happy at odd moments. My infant hands would fly at the air, clapping at invisible things. In pictures, many a time I’m just staring off into the open air, beaming.
But the world and adults can be cruel to children, I found that out quickly. My friends of magic, they were all quickly dismissed. They were nothing but imaginary friends.
Now, I know what imagination is. Imagination is when you believe that you can make it to the moon in your cardboard space ship. Merriam-Webster defines imagination as the act or power of forming a mental image of something not present to the senses or never before wholly perceived in reality, or as a creation of the mind.
That is imagination. My friends, they were not imaginary.
I found out that adults didn’t like magic. They didn’t like that I could see it. I learned quickly to quit telling them about it.
As I grew older, I could still see the magic. But, we were separate. I would only talk to them in private. In High School I would sit by myself when I had the chance and quietly give the soft fairy hands pieces of human food. Fairies are fond of sour candy, did you know?
High School was a long time ago now though. I’m being forced to become the adults that told me I was wrong, I don’t want to lose the magic though.
Will I no longer be able to talk to the centaur that lives next door? He carries on highly intelligent conversation, conversations that I yearn for. The fey assure me they will never leave me. I’m special because I can see them and that I will never lose that gift.
I’m frightened of the idea of losing this ability, but still it remains.  They remain close to me.
They laugh as I stumble over my words and tell them about this girl.
“You’re so enamored with her .” They flit on my shoulders and gently push at my glasses, laughing. I wave them off, blushing.
“Go talk to her.” They encourage.
We talked.
That was a few years ago. I’m still with this girl. I’m even pondering marriage.  I’m happy to say that the magic hasn’t left. A nice druid even gave me advice on how to propose to her.
My relationship has been something startling to the magical world that I grew up with. Many of them who I played with as an infant are still here.  They giggle at the idea of me having a girlfriend; they tease me by telling me things that make me blush. Still, they were the first ones who congratulated me at getting my first kiss.  
I’m sitting on the couch with her, and a nearby fairy is sitting on the back of the couch- harassing my cat. I lean over her shoulder and shoo the cat off the couch. I don’t want to witness a fairy murder.
It’s a break in our conversation, a serious conversation in which I’ve been laid bare. My eyes finally dart to her, afraid to see her reaction.
Instead she gives me her beautiful smile. “That’s why I love you.” She whispers and her hands gently touch my face. “You see the magic in the world."
I let out a short laugh, if only she knew. “That’s because there is magic in the world, you just have to look close enough.” I glance over her shoulder again to the fairy who is nodding with approval for this girl. “I really do see the magic though.” I whisper softly.
She takes off my glasses and gently starts to place them on the arm of the couch, but her direction shifts and instead she passes them to a fairy. “I know, so do I.”
I’m stunned and I stare at her, her beautiful features hazy without my glasses. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her completely.
We see the magic in this world.