Expected ~H.S

Happily ever after.

"This is so complicated." He admits, Looking down at the mattress beneath us.

"What is?" I ask. Is he referring to laying down?

I watch as his large hands toy with a loose thread poking out of the duvet, constantly twirling it around his slim fingers. He looks... Scared almost. I watch his face as he stares down at the bed, ignoring my presence, completely. Moments later, he sighs, finally giving in.

"I'm suppose to be in love with sam."

<><><>

I stop breathing for a moment, really letting his words process threw my mind.

He isn't obligated to be in love, so why does he say it like he has to be?

As far as i know, Love can't be forced upon someone.

It goes hand in hand.

It's a feeling you get involuntary, totally out of the blue. The feeling can come at any time. Rather your laying in a bed, naked, next to the person, or your washing dishes the day after. It's just a thought that pops up in the back of your mind, completely random.

No one can tell you to love, or make you fall in love. It just comes naturally, Taking over every working fiber in your body, smothering you in a warm, safe feeling. A feeling that you immediately get attached to, and miss when it's gone.

It's addicting, much like a drug.

Everyone wants to feel the effects the of the high.

We all want a "Happily ever after" Written in pretty cursive at the end of our love story, no one really expects otherwise.

As kids, our parents fill our minds with all these "Perfect" fairy tales that never end in anything rather than singing birds and red roses. They get complicated and twisted at times, but in the end, Prince Charming comes and sweeps his princess off her feet, leaving all their troubles behind them, not glancing back once.

And then one morning you wake up all grown and big. Your alarm clock is sounding off in the background, reminding you of your dreadful, low pay job. You lay in bed a bit longer, staring at your blank ceiling, not wanting to leave the warmth of your mattress and that's when you realize it. Reality finally hits you dead in the face, as hard as possible, leaving a large red hand print across your tired features.

A prince won't just show up at your door step, baring his life to you. Their are no magical pumpkin carriages, or talking mice, and there certainly aren't any magical Fairy God Mothers "Bibity Bobity boing" any of your wishes.

You actually have to work to find love.

And rather the love you find is your actual Fairy Tale is whole other story.