Fairy Tales

I spent years believing in fairy tales -
not the dark ones,
not forests full of wolves,

but the gentler sort
where boys become heroes,
families forgive each other,
and everything ends
as it should.

Books were full of them.
So were the dreams
I mistook for promises.

It took a long time
to see what they were:

pleasant inventions
for people who need them.

When the spell wore off
there was little left -
only the ordinary pair
of loving and hurting.

Even now I miss them,
those improbable endings
that once seemed possible.

But you cannot live forever
as the child
who waits for one.