what if i don’t get my fairytale?
I imagined my love to be Cinderella’s wishing well
Charming structure, intricate carvings on the soft, delicate marble.
I’d imagine wishing upon it every moment for the existence of a love that would lean with me over the well top and fish out all the change in it,
Telling me how he’d use it to lay the foundation of our first house,
For our wedding champagne,
For our kid’s first toy.
He’ll use my wishes to grant me those I never thought I deserved.
But my well has no intricate carvings,
And I am no Cinderella.
There lay no marble anywhere near,
It stands high with these soft red bricks,
Every inch of it screams ‘austere’.
But that’s not the worst part.
It has this force it attracts me with when a dweller takes a second glance at me.
The chipped bricks prick my finger as I return a smile of warmth.
As the dweller inches closer, the force from the well grows stronger till it all goes black and I open my eyes to find myself gasping for air.
As I drown in the dark liquid of the well,
My limbs slowly become tired and my throat fills with water every time I yell the dweller’s name.
As my chest starts to hurt, I catch a glimpse of his blank stare as he mouths ‘i’m sorry’ and leaves.
I hear the footsteps fading as I feel the warmth of my tears contrasting the cold water of the well.
So I add these weights to my boots,
As for the next time, I shall not go through this again.
But the next dweller comes in with this gush of wind and sweeps me off my feet.
But instead of him opening up his arms to take me in,
He lets me drown and as I feel the splash of the cold on the back of my head,
“How the hell did you end up here?”
“Weren’t you careful?”
I blame myself as I catch a glimpse of his blank gaze
Right before I hear his fainting footsteps.
I grasp the dents of the chipped bricks inside the well.
The indentations help me grip, just like they did before and I pull myself out.
Drenched in his memory.
in his indifference.