Backwards Fairytale

I don’t know what it is I am actually supposed to be doing here. Wait, let me rephrase. I have a vision, an idea, and a clear cut plan about where it is I’m going. I have a map that shows a path to the place I am trying to get to. That’s not the problem. Not that there is a problem, per say. Let’s just say that this uncharted territory is starting to remind me of a scene from a dark fairytale, one where all the tall, creature-like trees reach their branches across the stone corridor giving the feel of being swallowed alive. Luckily, I can play the role of Cinderella well, and I’ll come skipping out of that forest with bells on my toes letting everyone know that I have arrived.

Some days the breathing in and breathing out sounds of the general public can become, well, annoying. And on those days I pretend that there is only me and you chosen few taking up the oxygen in the space around. As I watch the day to day workings it reminds me of the little mice you see running around in the background, the ones that run under the skirt of the princess trying to get away from the ugly chef.

 And then there are the days that only the united beating of hearts coming from the strangers walking by seems to carry me along. These are the scenes where I, the princess of course, would be swinging around in a show of happiness, singing songs of cheese and wine.

 What happened to the balance and serenity that was my life? Oh yeah, it was sucked out and blown away when the decision to change was put into action. But then again, that’s exactly why the decision was made, so the sucking of life must’ve come before hand.  

But this isn’t all bad. As a matter of fact, it isn’t bad at all. The watchful eyes of those around have surely given me a bit of strength in times I’ve felt lacking. The flirtatious words of a fellow or two have lent themselves to the rising of my heart on occasion. The laughter that has ensued when me and my girls, my ladies-in-waiting realize that the notions of the perfect prince are really just delusions we pretend are real, and then the comparisons we make fold us over and give us cause to squeeze our legs together in hopes that we don’t lose control and moisten our undergarments. Yes, that’s what I said. You boys make us pee our pants.

The day to day recuperation of life in general is easy going, slow, steady. It’s in the tedious and meticulous that my mind starts to spin, and then, a friend will call and I’m taken away by the sounds of love that flow from their mouths. And I like it. I’m being taken care of. They’ve got my back.

So, for you wicked few I have to say, that though I may jump from one darkened Disney story to the next, you little elves, you fairy godmothers keep me afloat. To the Laura’s and Lisa’s, the Christine’s and Terrie’s of the world, walking your sisters through these trials of sanity, keep doing what you’re doing. The cracks in the floor are a little smaller today because of you. Keep playing dress up and going to the ball, because even if we never find our handsome prince, we will definitely have a good time trying.