To whom it may concern,
I am applying to be the main hero of this fairy tale.
Let me start with this, though: there are some things in this world that you just… know. You don’t hear about these kinds of things in school. Books and lectures from parents can’t prepare you for it, either. For example, a woman pushes and a baby squalls and suddenly, you know it’s not yours. Depression and anger get married, and you know you’re the bridesmaid, even if you weren’t asked. And have you ever looked in the mirror and wondered if the face you saw was yours or not? Why do you wonder at all? You wonder and then you remember you have a receipt for this heart that was given to you, but you know you’ll be given less money back if you return it.
That being said, I am applying to be the main hero of this fairy tale. I believe–no, I know–that I am qualified for this position because I will do what heroes do. I will climb the tallest mountains to find the edge of my lover’s world. I will grow wings that, when the intensity of the wind is at its highest, can help me carry anyone to safety. I will change my heart so that it can contain the pain of all the other characters; it will be so grand that no other organ will have to feel a thing. Again, I know that I am qualified for this position. I already have hands large enough to cage the lungs of my enemies if words alone do not suffice. My life has already been nothing but one lesson I could teach to others so they can ponder for a moment. And besides, even if you think otherwise, even if the readers think otherwise, there is no limit to the amount of illusions a mind can create in order to keep hearts beating. If you want to test that limit, I will be that illusion. I will be what you need. I know that
I am what you need.
I thank you for your consideration.