Invisible Crown.

As the fairytale comes crumbling down and the prince walks away, the sea waves collide at my feet as I stare out into the blue. Alone, I squander the idea that we could be ideal. I squander the memory and the thought, my only dream from long ago.

A year earlier I had been burdened with a question I could not answer, lost of all my voice because I only wanted to be spoken to by my prince. I longed for him. “Would you be my Queen, my love?” this dainty, scrawny little brown-eyed boy dared to ask me as I sat on my beach chair enjoying the last of the sun, “would you join me to my final ball? Would you be mine a few months from now? Could you find it in you to be mine for a night?” he begged me.

As the sun grew smaller behind the mountain tops and layers of sunset I thought to myself, “oh why you my good sir, why must you ask when my eyes belong to another man, my Prince, my Prince I long for.” Some might say he knew what I was thinking, he knew that I was invisibly taken but I only answered with this. “Sir, oh you are a good sir, I shall not obey my order to my King and allow you my presence, I cannot be seen with you, I long for somebody else.”

This young brown-eyed boy found a Princess before those few months were up and they shared that night hand-in-hand for it was of all truth and purity, clutching no lies or restraint.

In this present day, I was not asked this question for a few months to come by my Prince, I was not asked by the one I longed for, I was only asked by another boy, a blue-eyed boy who also dreamed of having me as his Queen for just one night. I refused this, just as the other brown-eyed boy and longed for my Prince to find me upon the beach as the sun lay low and the darkness prowled over the ocean currents and sea breeze.

My Prince, the man that I longed for eventually took a stroll near where I resided and I glanced his way and he glanced mine and I yelled his way, “oh kind Prince, my knight, could you be mine if only for one night?” and this Prince stared my way, noticing my position and solemn tear and kept on walking the way he had began. I stood there, tear rolling down my left cheek and a gorgeous gown only specially made for one look to give me a chance to get noticed; wanted.

This night was it, my dream was shattered like Cinderella’s glass shoe in my present version and that was the end of the dream, my Prince would not ask for my hand, he would only expect me to grab his.