Ooops, guess Jareth wants to play hardball, or maybe he's just not there at all. Sorry Sarah, hope you like being a masochist:
What horrible coincidences. They were driving her slowly mad.
So it was a dream, a dream after everything. The labyrinth, its creatures, its king…
But those coincidences kept haunting her. Made it so difficult to just go back to normal life.
Sarah smacked her palm against her forehead for the umpteenth time and took a sip of coffee before diving into the next line of her research.
Halfway through the next paragraph she had to catch herself once more. How hard it was not to daydream about him!
But he is an illusion, nothing more, was all Sarah could tell herself. Getting it through her thick skull that Jareth was no more than a figment of her imagination was draining her beyond measure. And so far the results of her adamant efforts were less than satisfactory. Damn this is gonna take a lot of work.
Sarah might be soft enough to say she was heartbroken, but it just didn't make sense all things considered. How could she be heartbroken over a fantasy that never existed? Ridiculous! She was old enough now to know how to behave herself.
Five minutes later another palm smack as she caught herself imagining what his kiss might be like, and a few other things for that matter.
Sarah's palms were getting very sore. And her head had been hurting for some time.
Damn you, Jareth. You're not real but you suck the life out of me all the same.