The Average

The hardest part, for me, is the realization that it's not going to change.

This is life, as I've recently come to discover. The norm is, well, normal. This is it. "It" as in "all there is." As in "all-encompassing, everything."

It's not going to be different for me.

I have not led an extraordinary life. I am not an extraordinary person. I am normal, another number on a chart, and it's not going to get any more exciting from here.

There will be no rising action, no moment of suspense, no secret to reveal. There is no plot. This is life, and it is every bit as boring as I hoped it wouldn't be.

I will grow up. I will start a career. I will get married and raise children. I will live in a decent-sized house with a dog and cat and a fence around the yard. My biggest adventures will be to the corner grocery store and the pediatrician's office. I will pay bills every month and struggle for extra cash. My children--forever cursed to be like me--will do exactly as I do, and the legacy shall continue.

No dreams. No quests. Nothing even close to the stories I write.

Will I even have my stories? My books and characters? They're the most sane part of my life, as crazy as they all are. But will screaming toddlers and bickering adolescents allow me to maintain that little piece of sanity?

I'm not wishing away my life. I'm being realistic. Honestly, there's no chance that I'll be the kind of hero that I create in fiction. This time is not one for heroes and adventures...

So the hardest part, I suppose, is settling for "normal." For what life will be, instead of what I've always dreamt it would.

And it's harder than I ever thought it could be.