Please Choose Me

I've found prince charming before--or at least I thought I did. Many times, each time in different forms. I always believed they were the one. I also always believed that I was the one. But time and time again, he--the proverbial he always ends up with someone else; always picks someone else before me. I never understood why. I guess I was just never the princess or the damsel in distress that they were magically and effortlessly supposed to be with.

I've got news for you: Nobody want's to be the evil stepsister; nobody want's to play the witch. We all just want to be chosen and I--well I thought I did whatever it takes to be loved. And yet, he chose her just because she was soft spoken and pretty in a whole cliched, understated and demure way. She didn't even have to fucking try.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: After taking a half a decade break from writing fiction, I've finally decided to give it another try. I'm a bit rusty, so please be nice to me. Suggestions and feedback are greatly appreciated.