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I had found this prompt somewhere, someplace that I subsequently forgot about soon afterwards. This paragraph, despite remaining so simple yet effective, managed to define the rapidly growing turmoil of conflict that I struggled with for months. I dream constantly, a wonderland full of love and mystical-realistic adventures, yet it came to a point where I could no longer dream as I once could. The problem lied in the fact that I needed someone to fixate upon, to love with loose ends, and as the prompt stated, “I don’t have the strength to put together the features of a fantasy face“. In my dreams of fantasy, I needed that one part of realism to pull me under.

I admit that I went through a literal “I hate love, love is hard” phase (shockingly enough), and it deepened with every month I spent loveless and confused. I fall easily, I love easily, and when no one is willing to reciprocate, what then? I could write for hours about the bottomless pit that had become my heart: cold, dark, empty, and grasping onto any sleeves for hearts. At least, I was searching for someone or something to fill my deep burden of love, until I wasn’t.

I’ll explain.




do you want to go to disney with me?

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Ironic how one of my happiest moments from the past year was located in the happiest place on earth. Yes, I’m talking about Disneyland, and that place did make me pretty freaking happy. I loved every minute there, from the rides to the delicious cream cheese pretzels. (Imagine this: you’re sitting under a parasol at night, eating the best cream cheese pretzel your tastebuds could’ve ever experienced, while watching the fireworks). (Now, imagine this: you just met someone that makes you feel some type of way, a certain happiness and love that you haven’t felt in a long-time, and the first thing you ask them is if they want to go to Disney with you).

I entered this semester with an edge to me, a harsh and cold-cutting blade that refused commitment yet accepted companionship. I wanted that feeling of euphoria, the never-ending fall before the inevitable crash, and I needed someone to fall with me. I won’t say much, a simple guess would probably hint at what I’m writing about, but said person has inspired me in ways I can never explain. I could write forever out of pure emotion: shades of lilac purple, the mix of primary colors onto a pure white palette, giant snow coats and little figures, stargazing on a winter night, a story that doesn’t really seem to end.


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