God, I hate boys/dating. It seems like once you finally get to someone you SEEM to like, after weeding out the Desperate, the Gross, the Psychotic, the Stupid, the Arrogant, the Player, the Loser, the Socially Inept, and all the other mutants, the "normal" ones turn out to be freaks, too. Like, they collect human skin, or, worse and far more difficult to comprehend, THEY don't like ME. I mean, I really don't see how they cannot...I'm somewhat attractive, I'm funny, I'm fun and vivacious...but yeah. They don't like me. And that led me to think about The Breakup, and how THAT came about, because that boy actually KNEW me, knew everything about me, so there should be NO confusion about my awesomeness...which led me to a horrible possibility and, seemingly at this point, probability....

I'm NOT a Woodland Nymph Fairy Goddess of the Night.

I don't know how this could have gone on for so long without my knowing. I mean, I go to bed covered in my fairy dust glitter, branches and dead leaves imbedded in my sexy, tousled and knotted hair (Pixies don't have time for brushing, you see) and wake up painfully and disgustingly average...my body not emanating a glow, my skin not perspiring rose water. How is it that I, who once bathed in lagoons beneath the moonlight and held sexual awakenings in my bat-infested lair could now be a 21-year-old college student with no idea as to her future and, worse yet, actually WORRIES about such a thing? My fingernails are actually clean and free of the gritty dirt that used to encase them from clawing at the ground beneath me. Isn't that terribly sad? I wear SHOES on my elfin feet, and, I'm ashamed to say, clothes. It's no WONDER I'm alone in a world full of soulmates...I can taste the love in the air like dew drops on the flowers I once consumed for nourishment...I can taste but I cannot swallow. I am but a shadow of my former self...constantly worrying, biting, chewing up my happiness like grain. In a world without love what's the point of living? How can one live without love?