When she searches her heart, she knows she loves him still.  She knows she will always believe in him, deep inside where the truest of notions are buried by resentment, anger, hurt, and disappointment.  She knows she will always believe that the prince she met so long ago was real, a fragile kind of royalty.  She wonders if he’s found his princess. 

So every night, before she sleeps, she whispers a prayer for her prince.  She wishes peace for him, safety and health, comfort and calm.  She prays for the strength to let go, forgive, and the ability to still love with all her heart.  She wishes her prince goodnight, wondering if somehow, he hears it, wherever he is.  And she asks her Maker, if it’s meant to be, that her prince will come home.  And if it’s not, that he’ll find his way to the refuge he seeks.  And sometimes she still cries.  But she knows she’ll be okay.  She knows that carnivals will still come to town and there will be cotton candy there; there will always be hills to jump on her four-wheeler,  fresh sunflowers for her kitchen window sill, and animals will always romp in her backyard.  She will always be loved by her friends and family.   She whispers a quiet “thank you” above her.  And she drifts off to sleep.