I wanted to fall.

I wanted to fall and I wanted someone to catch me.

I wanted to fall on a nice Autumn day where the fields were covered in leaves of yellow and gold.

I wanted to fall, preferably on grass that way if the woman who happened to catch me stumbled back she wouldn’t risk injury.

I wanted to fall and have a Karin Kallmaker type of romance.

I wanted what I’ve always dreamed of as a young girl, only with a princess and not a prince.

I wanted a fairytale.

I wanted an earth shattering first meeting, a quake large enough to engulf a small island in the pacific.

I wanted to be wooed.

I wanted to be wined and dined.

I wanted someone who’d wake me with a long drugging kiss each morning, a kiss that would leave me tingling with anticipation for the day ahead.

I wanted someone who’d make me a breakfast of Pikelets drizzled in warm honey apple syrup, topped with blueberries.

I wanted someone who’d text me about her day, throughout the day, however mundane.

I wanted someone who’d take me as I am, southern charm, attitude, quirks and all.

I wanted a woman who could spoon.

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Really spoon.

I wanted a woman who spooned so well I’d blush every time I held one.

I wanted a woman who was inspired by happy endings as much as I was.

I wanted it all and instead I got you.

I wanted it all and instead I got you.

I wanted it all and instead I got you.

I wanted it all and instead I got you.

Those last few words may not have been in bold but they stood out and slapped Bette in the face over and over again.

She had woken to find a letter leaning against a half empty glass of water on her bedside. She read over it a couple of times with a heavy feeling of dread. She was being dumbed, by letter no less.