Table of Contents [Report This]
Look at this house. It’s a very nice house, don’t you think? It has a rose garden and a picket fence and around the back there’s a little swing made out of a tire. There’s a porch and the grass is so long it might come up to your knees – the perfect place for a girl to grow up.
Now look at this place. It’s dark and gloomy and there’s so many shadows you expect they could drown you.
You knew both of them once, do you remember?
Every story starts with once upon a time. They all have happy endings. They might not be for you, but you can’t be greedy.
You can’t choose how things turn out but you can pick the genre.
*
Fairy floss and ponies and tutus – those things have always made you sick. Your mother read you stories about stuff like that, and maybe that’s why you could never believe in it.
You don’t want to get married.
You don’t want 2.5 kids.
When you were a little girl, you think you might have dreamed of prince charming, but then again, how can you be sure? Everyone says they do, but how many say it because they think that’s the way it’s supposed to be?
You say you want your happy ending, and yet you detest everything it stands for.
*
Maybe, if you allowed yourself, you could give in. You could surrender for once and watch how the story unfolds that way.
Nights of passion and roses and chocolates…
…but you’ve never been the romantic type.
Just sex – a loss of control and nothing more than fucking, as brutal as the word…
…but you’re searching for something more.
True love and nothing else matters…
…but you’ve forgotten what that means.
The characters in those stories never care, though, do they? They take what they can get, put everything they have on the line for a few moments of happiness.
Why can’t you do the same?
*
Sometimes, you relate your life to science fiction.
Mystery, suspense – you crave the thrill of it, an adrenaline junkie. Action and adventure has always been your style; you tell yourself you hate it but that’s only because you’ve become your own stereotype.
Your world is just another movie, you know it, too. You have a limited wardrobe because you’ve allowed yourself the comfort of giving in and saying you’re just another character with no hopes of changing the script.
You truth is, you have the choice. You could change the theme. You could read into your happily ever afters but maybe after all this time, you’ve grown fond of the angst. Don’t admit it because ice queens don’t – but you’re afraid of the unknown.
Sometimes, it’s easier to live life through a paperback novel.
And, sadly, you write about what you know.
Now look at this place. It’s dark and gloomy and there’s so many shadows you expect they could drown you.
You knew both of them once, do you remember?
Every story starts with once upon a time. They all have happy endings. They might not be for you, but you can’t be greedy.
You can’t choose how things turn out but you can pick the genre.
*
Fairy floss and ponies and tutus – those things have always made you sick. Your mother read you stories about stuff like that, and maybe that’s why you could never believe in it.
You don’t want to get married.
You don’t want 2.5 kids.
When you were a little girl, you think you might have dreamed of prince charming, but then again, how can you be sure? Everyone says they do, but how many say it because they think that’s the way it’s supposed to be?
You say you want your happy ending, and yet you detest everything it stands for.
*
Maybe, if you allowed yourself, you could give in. You could surrender for once and watch how the story unfolds that way.
Nights of passion and roses and chocolates…
…but you’ve never been the romantic type.
Just sex – a loss of control and nothing more than fucking, as brutal as the word…
…but you’re searching for something more.
True love and nothing else matters…
…but you’ve forgotten what that means.
The characters in those stories never care, though, do they? They take what they can get, put everything they have on the line for a few moments of happiness.
Why can’t you do the same?
*
Sometimes, you relate your life to science fiction.
Mystery, suspense – you crave the thrill of it, an adrenaline junkie. Action and adventure has always been your style; you tell yourself you hate it but that’s only because you’ve become your own stereotype.
Your world is just another movie, you know it, too. You have a limited wardrobe because you’ve allowed yourself the comfort of giving in and saying you’re just another character with no hopes of changing the script.
You truth is, you have the choice. You could change the theme. You could read into your happily ever afters but maybe after all this time, you’ve grown fond of the angst. Don’t admit it because ice queens don’t – but you’re afraid of the unknown.
Sometimes, it’s easier to live life through a paperback novel.
And, sadly, you write about what you know.
