how much I hated being on it, like I had most of my life. I only thought of one person: Mazen. Only thought of one thing: I was leaving him.
My tears were not something I wanted to keep in. I was facing so many difficulties already; crying in front of strangers wasn’t my biggest concern. Leaving the last person I’d thought I could ever fall in love with, was. I had every right to bawl my eyes out.
I didn’t care how rude I sounded when I asked to be left alone most of the flight. I needed peace–at least around me. Because inside: there was undying war, and troubling fights.
The memory of him as he stood there all broken when the plane took off–I don’t think it could ever be more vivid in my head. It didn’t leave my mind for a second. Not for a moment. And it made me cry even harder just remembering his last words: “I’m never going to forget you, Princess.”
He did one of the hardest things you could do in your life: he smiled while his tears were about to fall.
I didn’t have that kind of strength.
One day, I asked my grandfather, “Papa, what’s one of the hardest things in life?” and he told me, “For fate to force you into doing something you never wanted to do.”
I couldn’t understand the irony of fate: when I loathed being in the kingdom so much and hated having to be there for my brother’s wedding, I found myself promised to the Crown Prince of said kingdom, for the rest of my life.
I struggled and suffered and tried to escape, but I failed.
And then...then I fell in love, and my eyes opened and saw things they’d never seen before. I realized I wanted to spend more time with him. I realized I was wrong in wanting to be away from him, and then–only then–I got my previous wish of getting away from him. He let go of me.
How unfair could life really be to me? With all of the struggles I’d had all of my life...this was something I should easily get through–but I couldn’t.
I didn’t have that kind of strength.
I might’ve straightened myself up, given myself a pep talk to be able to move on, stopped my tears from showing and stopped my voice from shaking. But my outside was strong for the sake of the image I had to keep up, because back home, I wasn’t the weak and crying ball of pity I’d been in the kingdom. I needed to get myself back on track to take care of the things that needed to be taken care of.
However, on the inside...I was dying. Slowly.
“Oh, thank goodness! I was going to start a search party for you,” my assistant, and friend, said jokingly from the other end of the line.
“Terri,” I smiled softly into the phone, not realizing how much I’d missed her until I finally heard her voice.
“Are you okay? Where are you? How’s married life?” she asked, all too cheerfully.
“Uh…you know about the marriage?” I frowned.
“Mhmm...and I guess you didn’t want me to know?” I could sense the hurt in her voice.
I sighed, “Listen, Terri, I’ll explain later. I’m landing at JFK airport in an hour, okay?”
“Oh, the honeymoon is over already, Miss Workaholic?”
“See you in a few,” I said and hung up, frustrated to learn that Joseph had probably already made up stories about my marriage, and not knowing how much damage I’d have to deal with–along with what I already had on my plate.
One day, I asked my grandfather, “Papa, what’s one of the hardest things in life?” and he told me, “When you can’t find someone who understands or feels for you.”
I couldn’t think of anyone I knew whom I could tell about what had happened. I didn’t know who would understand. Terri was so kind and a great friend, but what could I tell her when I didn’t even know what to say to myself?
My emotions were all over the place. I knew being home was the right thing for me, but...I couldn’t feel the things I’d thought I’d feel once I put my feet on the ground in my country.
I thought I’d feel relieved. I didn’t.
I thought I’d be able to block my mind from thinking of what I’d lost. I couldn’t.
I thought I would forget all of the nice and kind things I’d lived through in the kingdom. I wouldn’t.
I knew I should get him out of