Once upon a time, not that long ago, and very close to here, there lived a man. Not a Prince, not a Valiant Knight, not a Wizard or Dragonslayer, not even a Simple Farmer. Just a man. He was married to a woman, and he had children and pets, and he had a mortgage and a car payment. He did not go on an Epic Quest. He did not fight an Evil Villain. It is mostly likely that he never even had an Arch Enemy. He worked to pay his bills, he dealt with Personal Issues, he did his best to be a Good Person, and the thing he wanted most in this world was to bring happiness to those he loved. It is not a tale that seems to merit telling, does it? We want our Heroes to witness Great Suffering, to bring Justice and Retribution, to prevail against Great Odds, or to at least have to deal with other things that warrant Capital Letters.
Our lives are not like books or movies or television. Which is why, I think, we love to read and to go to the movies and to watch television shows, because Fiction is not Real Life. We need those momentary escapes. Even when we love our lives and those we share those lives with more than anything, even ourselves, we still crave dreams. It is what makes us Human. Our ability to fantasize that we are someone else while never forgetting who we truly are. Some say our reality dictates the dreams we have, but I think it is more likely that our dreams define our reality and remind us that being who we are is better than any imagining could be.
But oh! the dreams we have...