What A Prince Cannot Fix

Let’s pick up after the kiss,

And after the birds are done singing.

It’s after the evil witch is defeated

But while the lump in my throat is still rising. 

It’s a lump rising from my heart- 

Not from a poisonous apple or spell 

But from a beast called depression.

Tears come fast and my eyes start to swell.

But I will not let them spill out - at least not yet.

“Snow White does not cry,” I whisper to myself in the dark.

But I feel both happy and sad battling inside me, 

And the difference between them is so stark.

We all know how it starts, just like this:

Once upon a time but not far from here,

I befriended chirping birds of the skies, a squirrel 

From the burrow and, from the woods, a deer. 

The feelings from this memory make me warm

And more than that, they make me proud 

That I had built a life for just me

Where I could sleep long, talk quiet, and sing loud.

But everything changed from the life I had made

When my prince finally came and I feel deep in love.

We wed in the forrest, surrounded by friends

And were united together with ribbon carried by a dove.

I had finally found what my heart had been seeking. 

It was magical and beautiful and all that I wanted.

But deep down I knew there were feelings inside,

Within my own heart, that I still had not confronted. 

I thought I had stifled all of the sadness inside

Since I wasn’t alone anymore.

Slowly but certainly, the pain would go away

Like the last wave of the tide shrinking away from the shore. 

“I have my prince,” I tell myself

“This should be my happily ever after.”

Yet in the still and silence of the night, 

I miss the sound of my own laughter.  

I realize the heartbreaking truth:

Just because I love and am loved in return

Does not mean that I am healed and with that

Tears finally fall- they’re hot and they burn. 

They drown my night dress in salty sadness.

They scorch fires down my face.

They rip like rivers through my hair. 

They dig trenches in my pillow case.

I softly sob and make my breaths even,

As to not wake the prince beside me.

I feel guilty for being so ruthlessly sad 

When he’s loved me with arms open widely.

To tell him that my sadness is not his fault 

Is to admit that something isn’t quite right.

And to say it out loud makes it so much more real 

And I don’t have the energy to fight.

Riding into the dusk on a white horse

Seemed like my fairy tale ending. 

But now I know it’s my happiness, 

Not my honor, that really needs defending. 

Maybe it’s just the night making me so cynical 

Maybe I’ll feel better with the sun rise tomorrow. 

But being a princess doesn’t take away the sadness,

And falling in love doesn’t fix my sorrow.

So I find some loose paper

And a feather with ink. 

My hand starts to write. 

My heart starts to sink. 

I write out cowardly excuses.

I write out apologies and so-longs

And explain in too many words 

That he can’t possibly right these wrongs. 

I sign it with “love,” then “sincerely,” then “from…”

And as I lift my gaze from the handwritten letter 

I peer outside and see dawn breaking between the trees. 

The sun has risen in the forest and I start to feel better. 

I walk through the cottage and over to the door

I strike a match in the hearth and a spark begins to glow. 

It grows to a flicker and then to a flame 

And I rip up the note and begin to throw. 

The piece about me and my sadness and doubts 

Is now in the fire and burning away. 

The part about you and your love and support

Is now coals and ashes of black and of gray. 

Although I never really left that small cottage of mine

I did go on a journey through my own heart that night.

I am the same size but I grew as a person, I left and came back

To find that nothing is the same, and yet everything is right.