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I still believe in fairytales. I’m a sucker for them and I’ll admit it to anyone who asks with a worried expression on their faces, afraid I may not be fully facing reality. But see, I have to believe in fairytales. I can’t afford not to if I’m to navigate through the highly perilous and undeniably treacherous waters of what can otherwise be known as my sentimental life.

I can’t not have faith that there’s something more to it than just random fairytale moments with random people. Of course, I’m not delusional – I don’t expect some Prince Charming to show up on a white horse to save me from some magical tower the evil witch or the terrifying dragon have me imprisoned in. I don’t need saving and even if I did, the only way to escape is by fighting through those moments myself.

But we each have a Charming of our own, hidden under those glasses maybe, or behind a shy smile just wishing to gather up the courage to ask us out for a drink, or maybe even inside that loud-mouth who likes to show off like he’s such a Don Juan, while in reality he’s looking for just one good girl – the right one!

I still believe in fairytales, you see. They keep my heart going, they keep my heart from closing off to the possibility of a love that’s more than fleeting infatuation, that’s strong enough to endure against the trite, as well as against life’s heavy blows.

I leave you with this:

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