Where The Hell Is My Happy Ending?

How I wish I was 10 again. A delusional yet hopeful brat. By this time, my struggling creativity has started to kick in. This was the phase when I'd read fairy tales over and over again until I could remember these full-of-shit stories by heart. Heck, I would give up anything just to be naive once again. Live in a colourful world genuinely believing that someday, my Prince Charming on his white horse will take me away from this dire and dark place and then live ever so happily ever after. I want to be deceived by this fantasy where no matter how evil my step sisters may be, how monstrous the dragons surrounding me, how wicked the witches after me, I would know that my knight in shining armour will kick the crap out of their big cruel asses. Right then and there. Just like that. How fictional can these bullshits get, eh? Note to self: never let my kids read fairy tales without wiseacre adult supervision.

My belief in my own happy ending was taken away from me. I thought that in love, no matter how shitty the shittiest of things may get, it all will and always get better. I used to think that nothing's worse than not being with the one you love. That intolerable mishaps would just be like a scratch and life without your significant other is the equivalent to metastasised cancer-- no cure, impossible escape, guaranteed death.

The pain consumes every remaining living cell in my close to lifeless body. It will not stop until it reaches my former unyielding core. A fragment in me where I'm not sure even exists anymore. Will I ever be revived? Is there something, someone out there capable of saving me? Hell, do I even want to be saved? I do not know what I want. But surely, I will not debate on whatever it is that I need. I need you my prince charming. Despite this current ominous aura that surrounds me, I am still a faithful believer. Prove me right. Save me from this inauspicious world. ASAP.

PS.
Don't take too long. Okay?