"My bed was a time machine. A soaring vessel of time and space cloaked in warm blankets with a fortress of pillows. Each night I took a chocolate chip cookie, a glass of milk and set off my journey. The bookshelf in my room bragged about my exploits, I had been thirty leagues under the sea. To the Swiss alps with Heidi; watched at the glorious whitewasher’s side. Been to the rainforest with Edward. But stories with dragons got me first because of the pretty princess - the helpless damsel in distress. And with her, a prince clad in splendid shining armor.
I read, sighing, about how he plunged the sword into the dragon’s heart. The years went on, the stories changed. Paperback novels filled with purple prose - moonlit kisses and dashing heroes accompanied me on days when the boy i sighed over at school did not look at me at all.
I dreamt of the day I would become a woman that paperback romances talked about. She always had pillow-soft lips, searching eyes, and glorious curves. I woke up one day to realize I would never be a paperback heroine.
Then you burst into the story. Drawing me back to the make-believe, crystal-colored world. You fought dragons and goblins and ogres. I am your princess in a castle, your paperback heroine. You showed me that we could live in our own fairy tale."