Girls, and boys, grow up with fairytales. We were filled with positive thoughts, dreams, and hopes.
And then reality hit us when we’re growing up. Things are never easy. Things are not beautiful. After tears and letdowns, sometimes there’s still no happy ending. After crying because the evil stepmom never allowed us to go to the party, there’s still no fairy godmother coming and helping to meet the prince. There’s never a perfect thing in the world.
But sometimes we hold so dear to the thoughts that there really is a perfect thing. Perfect relationship. Perfect friendship. Perfect life. Perfect luck.
When do hopes become false hopes? When do dreams become unrealistic dreams? When do you draw the line?
I guess no one knows the exact answer, but I believe that people should, at some point of time, stop for a while and look at the big picture.
Somehow, I think, part of growing up is really knowing that fairytales don’t exist. Knowing that hopes and dreams, no matter how beautiful, can be impossible sometimes. Preparing for the worst. Getting ready for the unimaginable.
I’m not saying that I’ve stopped dreaming though. I think what still keeps me going is my own dream of seeing better days.
But I’ve stopped believing in fairytales. I’ve stopped hoping that everything is going to be fine, everything is going to be more or less perfect.
Things don’t happen that way and I’m glad that I know it early.
And at the same time I’m also sad. Innocence has lost. Please welcome, the bitter and cold me.
Fairytales, go to hell.
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