...But that's okay. Love is created by all your unrealistic expectations, all the fetishizing, all the fairy tale that has been told. It's your little dance with your brain. Do a little spin with your brain. Alice is happy in the rabbit hole, and there's no need to find a solution out.
Then your love elevates itself, it found out where you and your deepest fear hides. You want more than just unrealistic expectations, fetish and fairy tale; modern love stories are about finding the perfect rescue for two, the story ends with a perfect crime and a smooth escape to Cuba. You told them that you would ditch everything and run away with them, you said it in tears, in Spencerian and polymer clay flowers. People can't say no to polymers clay flowers, those are their weaknesses - and yours too. They would align in the direction that your palm unfolds, somewhere you couldn't grasp, because you don't control them. You thought this would be something different, something that you've been chasing all along, you thought reality became crystal clear. Then you flinched when you found out that you were just staring at the mirror this whole time - not crystal, not even meth, just splattered pieces of reflection, rendered with lilac lighting.
At the very least, I've always had good intentions.
