I have loved the Manic Pixie Dream Girl since before the term existed. She was my 5th grade BFF, my camp councillor with the nose ring, my high school crush, and the party girl I made out with while her boyfriend looked on in bemusement.
She was slender and dangerous, creative and impulsive.
I have swooned over her impish smile, basked in the glow of her creativity, and patiently picked up the pieces when things fell apart.
But, although she toyed with my affections, performed to my adoration, and leaned on my strong shoulder, she never loved me back.
She was butterfly wings and sparkles over a cavern of pain that my love and understanding was never able to fill.
In the movies, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl shows up to transform the heroes life. But in real life she’s Stephanie stealing my lunchbox, Rayanne overdosing, the councilor busted for weed, the party girl turning christian and having six kids…
I love the Manic Pixie Dream Girl.
But if you love someone, you’ve gotta let them go.
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