Scrubs on a Saturday

One of my favoritest TV series was Scrubs (*sniffle* at least I still have The Tudors...). I mentioned the use of the song Book of Love on the finale, but I felt the need to show the clip in its entirety. Why? Well, watch it, and I'll tell you.



JD's last line: "And who's to say this isn't what happens? Who can tell me that my fantasies won't come true?"

As a writer, we're dreamers. It's what we do. Unconsciously we see things, events, stories, these great and epic things that sprawl out before us. We see the lives of our characters and how they rise and fall, when they smile and when they cry. We see our lives. When we want to rise and when we hope we won't fall, when we know we'll smile and when we know we'll cry with joy.

But I know I, at least, have become so accustomed to seeing these great, sprawling stories in my head that I've forgotten they may come true. I've gotten comfortable in imagining things, in just sitting back and dreaming. Usually I don't expect my fantasies to come true. I see my life play out on a big screen before me (while Book of Love plays in the background, of course) but that's it. It just plays on loop as I watch, and I never expect it to happen anywhere but on a big white sheet.

That can change, though. Someone can rip the big white sheet down, and suddenly you're forced to see your life beyond the comforts of your own fantasies. Things will happen that are out of your dreams, things you didn't expect. They're wonderful, too, and breathtakingly unexpected. But it's those things that happen both on and off the white sheet, those things you fantasize about on loop then see in real life, that really make the impact.

So while life is full of the unexpected and unplanned, who can tell me that my fantasies won't come true? That this isn't what happens -- or is happening?