We put on beautiful dresses from our mothers' closet and twirled around holding our fathers' hands.
We painted our faces with our sister's make up and curled our frumpy hair -- strutting around proclaiming we were the most beautiful girls in all of the world.
We got in bed at night truly believing that one day, when we were older, we'd be swept away by a gorgeous man in a white suit.
We were three feet tall with dreams that reached the ceiling.
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And then we were on the floor of our bedrooms shoulder to shoulder giggling about the brown haired boy we sat next to in biology.
We passed notes in class that were taken away and read aloud by our teachers and then gossiped about for days on end.
We thought long and hard about what our first kiss would be like - and then replayed it over and over and over in our minds once it finally happened.
We searched the internet for the perfect gown and imagined every detail of our wedding day.
We believed in fate and miracles and true love.
We were pre-pubescent, wide-eyed, naive, love struck 15 year olds.
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And then we were laying under the stars saying 'I love you' for the very first time.
We were accepting kisses in public, breaking curfew, and reveling in new found privacy.
We were ending high school relationships in anticipation of a better future.
We imagined we'd find a man as great as our fathers and as funny as our brothers once we stepped foot on our college campuses.
We were 18 and ready to find the one who would someday become our husband.
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And then we convinced ourselves that we had entered the decade of 'hook-up culture' and were okay with it - leading to midnight ronde-vu's with emotionally unavailable musicians.
We topped off bottles of wine and cried while watching Breakfast at Tiffany's - wishing there were a place where we and things fit together.
We found ourselves on the floor in the fetal position attempting to hold ourselves together when it seemed like nothing else would work.
We were jaded and defeated. Swearing off boys and cursing every childish fantasy we ever believed in.
We denounced our faith, our belief in destiny, and the kind of commitment that meant forever.
We claimed we didn't believe in relationships - that true love doesn't exit. That fairy tales are just fairy tales and marriage is some silly institution that we buy into with the anticipation of bailing out of.
We were heartbroken, deceived, and stupid 21 year olds with little belief in humanity.
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Yet we find ourselves reliving our first true love. Picturing ourselves holding the hand of our high school boyfriend, remembering the kisses that made our backs tingle, and the complete trust we had in the other.
We still get the butterflies when the boy from our most recent break-up gives us hugs where our feet come off the ground and hate that we continue to love the feeling.
We lay on our roommates' beds hashing out every detail of every encounter with every boy we've had in last few weeks until there is nothing left to pick apart.
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Because in the deepest pit of our stomachs, in the furthest inch of our hearts, and in the very tips of our toes we find the hope that we once believed in.
After all...
... we grew up with once upon a time's and happily every after's.
