When I was younger, I was fascinated with fairy tales. I dreamed of myself being the ill-treated, forgotten, downtrodden princess whose prince would come one day to rescue her and they would then live happily ever after.
I think I was less enamoured by the happily ever after part as I was drawn to the idea that there’s a prince who would come. For me. A prince especially for me. I mean, what more can one ask for in life than this?
Life happens. Love rages. Love cools. Love proposes. Love denies. Love ignites. Love lost.
He said perhaps I could learn to love again. I think not.