Youre thinking, maybe it would be easier to let it sliplet it gosay I give up one last time and give him a sad smile.Youre thinkingit shouldnt be this hard,shouldnt be this dark,thinkinglove could flow easily with no holding backand youve seen others find their match and build something greattogether,of each other,like two halves fitting perfectly and now they achieve great thingsone by one, always together, and it seems grand.But you love him. Love him like a black stone in your chest you couldnt live without because it fits in there. Makes you who you are and the thought of him goneno moremakes your chest tighten up and maybe this is your fairytale. Maybe this is your castle.You could get it all on a shiny piece of glass with wooden stools and a neverending blooming gardenbut thats not yours. This is yours. The cracks and the faults, the ugly words in the winterwalking home alone and angrybut falling asleep thinking you love him.This is your fairy tale. The quiet in the hallway, wishing for him to turn around, tell you to stay, tell you to please dont go I need youlike you need meand maybe its not a Jane Austen novel but this is your novel and your castleand you can run from it your whole life but this is herein front of you.Maybe nurture it?Sweet girl, maybe close the world off and look at him for an houror two.This is your fairy. It aint perfect and it aint honey sweet with roses on the bed.Its real and raw and ugly at times. But this is your love. Dont throw it away searching for someone elses love. Dont be greedy. Instead, shelter it. Protect it. Capture every second of easy, pull through every storm of hardship. And when you can, look at him, lying next to you, trusting you not to harm him. Trusting you not to go. Be someones someone for someone.Be that someone for him.Thats your fairy tale. This is your castle.Now move in. Build a home. Build a house. Build a safety around things you love. Its yours if you make it so.Welcome home, sweet girl, it will be all be fine.