If it really is true, if there is not one spec of fairy dust floating nor one solitary vampire left roaming the face of the earth, I will find a way to be content. I will stop yearning for the magic I read and dream about. But until someone can prove me wrong, I hunt. I used to believe that good, no, extraordinary things would come, that I was destined for adventure, romance, a fairy tale ending. But it wasn't until I finally woke up thanks to a slap in the face called reality, that I realised that this dream was simply that; a dream. I don't want to believe for a second that a well-respected husband and a mortgage is all that I should expect from this life. Though deranged I might sound, I'm more afraid of that then being help captive by a battalion of blood thirsty pirates. So until my dream of a more magical land is physically ripped out of my brain I will not give up. It's out there. And seeing as nobody else in this century wants it, it's mine for the taking.
Start small.
