It's tiring, and lonely being the homecoming queen.

Sigh.
So. Here I am. Rockstar that I am! <Flips hair>  sigh again. <sinks down>
It's not easy being the "homecoming queen". Being "popular". Everyone loves you! Everyone looks up to you! Awesome! Sort of.
I'm not entirely sure WHY people like me. Is it because I help them unleash the inner "them". Are they living vicariously through my exploits? My apparent sexual freedom? LOL. I have to laugh.
I have always had this "Wild Child", "Earth Mother" "HIPPIE" sort of image. I recall a friend of mine was upset to find out my total man count was six.
Six.
That's all??! She lamented.
What? I'm sorry. Wasn't that enough? Did you think I was a <gasp! Don't say the word! You're gonna say it, aren't you? Yes.> SLUT?
"Well, no, I just thought,... you were so free... I thought..."
I'd have "more" somehow, huh? Me too!! Who knew? Who knew I was so fussy?
But besides sex, there is this other issue of fairy glamour. Men, and women, let's be fair, who want me. Ready to grab a ticket and stand in line to wait. No vanity here. Ask anyone. This happens to me. It's a blessing, and a curse!!  Truly. I can't help it. I know I have this "superpower" and sometimes I turn it on on purpose, but most of the time, no, I don't and I can't help but gather devotees, followers, lovers, and others. LOL.
Sounds so fat headed, I know. But you'd have to be me to understand!!
And I love it. And it wears me out. I feel sorry for the people who love me sometimes. I suffer from PMDD. A severe mood disorder regulated around my feminine cycle. Ahem. Yes, ladies don't ... talk about it... but, oh, I'm no lady. Ahem. <COUGH COUGH COUGH!>
Yeah, whatever. Look it up.
So! Back to fairy glamour. I get to know someone, and then suddenly, they are looking at me with stupid eyes, sparkled with fairy dust, they love me. WHY??!! What the ...?! Dammit. I'm sorry. If I've done it to you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just ... love other people. I really do. And even though it doesn't happen, I'm just sure that this love is just sugar glass, about to crack apart and shatter and be thrown away. So I flit away, leading my poor bedazzled ones away.... and I don't mean to.
I love when I do a show and everyone wants to see me, touch me, talk to me as a real person and not the character, but I don't know what to do with people who like the real me. Really? Are you sure? Can I change your mind? I'm so contrary, so ... incidentally evil... I don't mean to be, really. Like a cat. I stretch out my paw, lovingly touching one moment, with claws the next. Even when I don't I expect the lap dump, the swat, the yelling....
Sigh.
I'm sorry for those in love with me. I'm so imperfect. I can't possibly love them like they deserve to be loved. And yet they love me. Ow. Dammit. I'm trying.
(offstage voice) "Clap louder, or Tinkerbell will die!!"
I'm clapping, I'm clapping!!!