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This is the story of a young girl. A really unpopular young girl. Who really didn't care that she didn't have suitors or never had a boyfriend or had never been hit on. Or so she made herself believe she didn't care. She was a bit kooky, and had a grandiose outlook in life. Nothing could bring her down. Not her imperfections. Not her dysfunctional childhood. Not the boys in her school who never gave her that amorous look.
Then college happened.
The world was suddenly a bigger place. And the boys in her new school attended to her like she was a princess in short shorts and Sketchers heels. Or so she believed arduously. She enjoyed every bit of it, every moment. Nothing could bring her down. Not her imperfections. Not her dysfunctional past. Not the girls in her new school who whispered ¨home-wrecker¨ and ¨chaser.¨ If only they knew she loved chasing skirts, too.
This girl believed she was a writer. She also easily believed the silliest things. She was presumptuous and illogical, and in turn made herself believe irrelevant concerns.
In her time as a student, there were two very popular female writers who were (are) pop culture icons. She followed them like crazy, buying books they wrote and magazines they wrote in. She told herself, I will be (like) them, one day.
From the things they have written that she had read, she came up with the most outlandish conclusion. The first writer had Johnny Depp. The other, Ralph Fiennes. To be (like) them, she thought, she needed one for herself.
And so the search for her ¨one¨ started with Elijah Wood. He was around her age and had the perfect blue eyes. He became her ¨E.J.¨ and husband number one.
But it wasn't quite enough. She believed the one should not only give her inspiration, he should be the character in her stories of love and woe. Her idol writers were writing a lot about theirs, and so she thought she should be writing about hers, too. However, her fantasies and daydreams were as picky as a toddler who would only eat hot dogs. None of them gave E.J. a lead role. Not even as a little hobbit in his little hole.
Orlando Bloom came next, but didn't quite make the cut. Pretty hair, pretty face; he was a fad and quickly fell out of the race(?).
Then there was James Marsters, who was just a little too old (ageist!). For the hotness, she married him (in her head). But his initials brought great sadness (don’t ask), and so divorce (in her head) was the only result.
Vincent Kartheiser came soon after. With eyes of icy blue, he became husband number two. But the Spawn of vampires got a little annoying. A season after, she was Charmed by Drew (Fuller).
Dark Angel introduced Smart Alec but she lost sight of him so fast. Had she known he was hanging out by Dawson’s creek, then she would have been hanging out there, too. Superman brought him back in her life, and he was blessed as husband number four. She loved him the most, but everyone was okay with that.
In her tiny little head, all these kids played basketball together. They knew they were all married to and loved by her. She lost count of ¨one¨ and the household grew far greater. She thought, ¨Eh, whatever.¨
There were others who she married after, but they’re not that much important. For their time were short and not all too sweet. Shortest would be James McAvoy, for she loved Leto more than the actor. Leto’s actor walked away bitter and proud. She told him (in her head), you’ll find something better. And true enough, he’s bigger than the great god emperor now.
The harem mansion stood strong and sound. Everybody was happy (in her head) and loud. Then a gorgeous Asian man barged into the house. The contrast in features struck her dumbfound. Xi Men opened a door for her, which lead to the Eastern Harem House.


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