There is No Happily Ever After

I married the love of my life, but it’s no fairy tale.

Photo on Visual Hunt

I met my husband when I was fourteen years old, and he was nineteen. He was British, beautiful, an artist, and I was just a delinquent Texan goth gal with a teenage crush. Of course it was the accent. Of course nothing ever happened, because I was a kid and he was a decent guy. He moved back to London when I was sixteen…