When hope and love were actualities.
To young girls, hope and love are tangible. You can hold their hands. You can dance on their shoes. They will keep you safe and make sure you do not swing all the way past the stars and into that snarky black hole that swirls and twirls into infinite, metallic tasting disenchantment. When you're older gravity forces you to swallow the sight of all the impaled knights bleeding out and onto a cartoon mouse that lies. You are left with nothing but abstract concepts and memories of all the pink moments when you thought everything would be okay because glitter could make any man smile and stay.