Life is never normal, the hills are never even. Like all things natural and all things real, just as god made it to be, nothing is ever normal or equal or alike. We are never going to find someone like us, we are all as different as the next. We don’t like that, so we look for similarities. We look for similar experiences, similar faces, similar thoughts, ideals, goals and ultimately someone to fill the other half of us. Someone similar yet different. And we call that two halves of a whole. Two halves of bullshit. Why do we make these stories up? Why do we invent fairytales? Why do we still believe and put our faiths in something as untangible as an other half? I call bullshit. The princes and princesses are not real. No one is looking for you in your castle like there is no one in the castle to save.
But maybe you’ll be able to find someone who is everything to you, and to you I then say good luck. Good luck because I hope you die early so your love doesn’t. Good luck because maybe you will stop listening to the cynical bullshit someone else is telling you and tell your own story.