You’re old enough, but somehow you still can’t shake the wistful shroud that cloaks you, making you malcontent even when you have everything you need.

Maturity has long since ruined your belief in magic. It’s just not possible to believe in fairies (clap clap) or magic wardrobes or supernatural beings (or at least not in the capacity that you will ever experience them). And yet, though you tell yourself you don’t, you cling onto the one element of all happily ever afters that seems like it could continue to exist even in the harsh climate of reality.

Maybe it does, but you don’t deserve one? Or maybe it does, and it’s even within your grasp, but you just don’t see it. Or know how to grab it. Because while I could believe that maybe happily ever afters exist, the easy wish-for-it or even work-hard-for-it methods probably won’t cut it.

Damn Disney.