There was once a girl with shiny blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes that sparkled when she laughed.  A spray of lightly colored freckles danced across her nose, making her look younger than she really was.  She was a happy girl; loved by her family and friends.  She loved animals, carnivals, cotton candy, four-wheelers, sunflowers, and the ocean.  She always had a sun-kissed color to her face even though she wasn’t always in the sun.  Athletic, energetic, she loved to play outside.  At her best when among people. 

One day, the girl met a boy.  His hair was red, but his eyes were bluer than any sky had ever been.  His expression was always serious, he seemed years older than he was.  When they walked together, the girl made long, quick strides, head up, shoulders back; the boy was a bit gawky, much taller than his counterpart, shoulders always slumped.  You would never suspect it from looking at him, but his arms were incredibly strong.  Sometimes, he held the girl so tightly that she thought he might crush her with his adoration.  He told her she was “lovely, refreshing, the only true refuge he’d ever known.”  She told him that she felt safe in his presence, free to be herself, blessed to have found him.  She was a free spirit, he was an old soul.  But together, for a while, they were happy, and despite their differences, they found common ground to share.  The girl thought her prince had finally come.  Her imperfect prince, with his scars and scabs, seemed to blossom for a time.  He smiled more, laughed louder, slept soundly.  Sometimes, her prince would awaken from sleep, kiss her and tell her he loved her more than anything.  In his sleep, he would call her name, and she would hold him tighter to assure him she was there.  During those moments, all she wanted in life was to be there for him, every day, each night.  To love him and protect him from harm.  She thought her happily ever after had come, and she was both humbled and grateful.

But it wasn’t meant to be.  Her prince became sullen, withdrawn, and she could see herself in his eyes now, aware that he no longer found her lovely or refreshing.  He no longer found refuge with her; he felt stifled, restless, and he wanted to find another girl to fill her place, someone new and exciting instead of dependable and familiar.  The girl let him go, grudgingly, putting up all the fight in her to keep him.  But she knew in her heart he was already gone. 

The girl is no longer a girl; she grew up, seemingly overnight.  She feels she has aged so suddenly, so unexpectedly, and she misses the prince she once knew.  But slowly, she’s starting to remember that she still loves to play outside.  She still loves animals, carnivals, cotton candy, four-wheelers, sunflowers, and the ocean.  Slowly, the twinkle in her eyes is becoming evident again, but when she laughs, the sparkle is missing.  She has noticed, however, that her eyes are bluer than those of her prince when they are brimming with tears.  She has spent many hours in front of her mirror, letting the tears spill over, wondering why he left.  Trying to find the girl she remembers, but can’t quite see in her reflection.