The sky was blue, the birds were singing, and I was exactly where I wanted to be, sitting in a dark corner of my office thinking about death and existentialism.
Don't act so surprised, I mean, what did you think i'de be doing? And no, I don't sleep naked in case you wanted to know, you sick pervert. That's all people think about when they read romance stories, don't come crying to me when the sparkling vampire shrivels to ashes because the power of true love wasn't enough, I don't care about that crap. And I'm glad for that.
True love doesn't exist which I guess is a good thing, at least I don't have random strangers coming to my door and asking for my help because "the prophecy told them to", that stuff isn't real either. We watch movie and read books, hoping that magic could maybe be real in the slightest, but nope, because this is reality, and reality isn't magic.