I’m not beautiful.
My hair doesn’t fall just so, and gently brush into my eyes so that you can push it behind my hair, right before we kiss.
My clothes aren’t always perfect, or sexy, so that you can slowly pull them off like in the movies.
My moods aren’t always the greatest, so when you’re feeling down, I can’t always bring you up.
My words are nearly always jumbled, especially when I need them the most.
With all these imperfections, how can we ever have a fairytale romance?
How can you love me, and even if you do, how can I believe it, when I’m far from a princess, and you’re a prince.