Expectation:
On a starry night, by a lovely pond,
A handsome prince sweeps me off my feet
And kisses me gently and passionately.
Reality:
On a stormy night, in the middle of the rain,
an awkward boy with raging hormones and braces,
clumsily presses his
lips on mine.
I wouldn’t trade the reality
for anything.
The imperfection of reality
is perfect.
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