Sometimes I feel like Cinderella. Waiting to be saved by my own prince. Waiting every day for the love that never comes. Sometimes when I'm at my worst, I'll look up and there you'll be, knocking on my back door with that smile upon your face, knocking on my heart as if to be let in. Just for a moment I'll forget my sorrows, let go and run into your arms. But my savior can't take me away, I run and fall, and always I end up back where I started. You can't save me, maybe you don't want to, but I love you just the same, and I hide within your walls and hide the tears on my face.

I'm Cinderella, less than that, and I wait in vain for my handsome prince to kiss me, take me as I am, and save me from myself. But will he ever come? Does he even know me? Is he even out there?

Cinderella waits and cries, and finds it hurts a little less when she doesn't bother dreaming.

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