History of Imagination

I was six years old the first time I thought of Avaland. I was crying over an unmemorable something, and in bitterness and tears I began to imagine a complex world where everything was undeniably Utopian. From that moment on, my tiny, wingless, imagination took flight and soared to tremendous levels.
I don't know how I thought of the name. I think it was something I picked up from a cheesy fantasy novel. However, it seemed to fit and that was what I called it.
Sitting on the back porch I would close my eyes and transport myself to a parallel universe. Usually my wanderings in this strange land took place on mossy cliffs of towering ruggedness- stepping down to the sea- and over what I pictured as foggy, enchanted moors.
My hunger for perfection did not stop when I was done playing. I would spend hours arranging the furniture in my room, and daydreaming about my chimerical land.
I only got worse as time went on.
I used my backyard as the stage to my play. The willow trees were no longer just trees, but a haunted wood. Under the apricot boughs was a fairy ring, and in springtime I would visit them in the evenings. On rainy days I could go fishing for whales in the puddles, and in the crisp fall I roped down a dragon and rode him into the clear, blue, sky.
My playtime became even more extravagant and complicated. I added characters, and dilemmas, and relationships. It was a book, I thought. My own personal play; complete with protagonist, plot, sub-plots, and scene.
It was all so real to me, and so deeply personal, that I never shared my secret place with anybody.
Until now.
I'm not quite sure what the purpose of Avaland was. A method of escape, perhaps. But after several years of bonding, it became so much more to me. Surely I was a severely troubled child, as I never really lived in the real world, but only truly existed in the fairyland in my mind. This probably accounts for any strange quirks that I still have today.
Looking back on it all, I marvel at my ability to hallucinate and call it art; to believe in a dream that was so completely unreal.
But I still think it was the most beautiful delusion imaginable.