If my life were a fairytale, I would be devastatingly beautiful and make even rags look glamorous.  Despite my good looks, I would be miserable, hand-scrubbing kitchen floors for hours on end and singing to stay cheerful.  Several people would despise me (stepmother, stepsisters, an evil witch–take your pick) and do everything in their power to make my life as hard as possible.  My sole hours of happiness would come when I could finally dance in the forest with the animals (and possibly even a prince).

Then, in a dramatic turn of events, I would find myself in the depths of unconsciousness, most likely due to a sinister plot from the individual(s) who hated me.  Many would mourn the loss of such a beautiful girl with the ability to communicate with small woodland animals.

But have no fear!  A handsome prince would come and fall madly in love with me (for my looks, not for my personality, which would be comparable to that of a piece of cardboard).  He would kiss me awake and sweep me off my feet, placing me atop his white steed, and together we would ride off into the beautiful sunset.

Or, if I were the handsome prince in this fairytale, I would have nothing to do all day but mundane princely responsibilities.  In order to escape the dreadfully boring life of royalty, I would take rides through the forest, looking dashing as my faithful horse sped across the land.

One day while riding in the forest, I would happen upon a lovely maiden with a beautiful singing voice (like a bird, perhaps).  We would dance the afternoon away, and then I’d leave, fearing I would never see her again.

But later, I would find the girl again; this time, however, she would be dead.  Despairing that the beautiful girl had died, I would kiss her.  And, oh, what surprise when she would wake up!  I would sweep her up and take her to my castle, where we would be married immediately, despite knowing absolutely nothing about one another.  And, of course, we’d live happily ever after.