Love and Despair

These two feelings should never go together, love and despair. When you love something so profoundly, but you know you can never fully have it. It's like grieving something you never had in the first place. Sometimes you are the unlucky one. The one who finds love only to have it ripped away from the start. The ones who were never meant to be. 

Six months ago, I finally met him. He was strong and tall. His name was known throughout the village. Ezra Bennett, the king's son. You could see him often helping the elderly and playing with the village's children. He had saved my life; I could also be exaggerating. One day, I fainted in the village market and awoke to his strong arms carrying me to the physician. I was so close to him that I could see the gold specks in his rich brown eyes. He smelled like the woods just outside of the village. He looked down at me for a second. I hadn't realized he'd been speaking to the doc already. "Miss Clark, how do you feel, dear?" Dr. Williams asked while he listened to my heartbeat. It was most likely beating fast from being in Ezra's arms. "I had seen her faint in the market, doctor. She was very pale." He spoke with such care and concern. Though, I knew that was his job. The protector of the king and the people of the village. A bright light came into view as Dr. Williams looked into my eyes. "Well, It seems you were just dehydrated, Miss Clark." He said, standing upright and turning to his cabinets. He turned back around with a glass of cold water.

"Drink this and rest here. Let me know if you need anything." I thanked him and took a sip of the cool liquid. Ezra was still standing there looking at me. "Thank you, Prince Bennett. It was very kind of you to bring me here." He nodded and cleared his throat. "You are very welcome, Miss Clark. I must say you are looking better already." He had a charming smile and a voice as smooth as freshly churned butter. "Oh, I almost forgot. You had dropped this." He handed me my basket, My eggs had cracked, and my bread had been flattened.

I sighed and set it on the floor. Father was going to be furious with me. "My deepest apologies. It must've gotten smashed when you fainted," Ezra said with a frown. I sat up and put my feet on the floor. "I was supposed to bring these eggs and bread to my father." I paused and rubbed my face. "Now I'm going to have to tell him they were ruined." I closed my eyes for a second and heard the jingling of what sounded like coins. Looking up, I saw that Ezra had his hand out with just enough to get new bread and eggs. "Oh my, You don't have to." I was definitely looking like a tomato now. I could feel the heat travel to my cheeks. "Allow me, Miss Clark, In-fact I'll accompany you to the market." He smiled, a hint of blush on his cheeks. "Just to make sure you are feeling alright." I nodded and accepted the coins. Ezra held his arm out and allowed me to loop mine through.

We went to the market that day, and I got more eggs and bread. He walked me back to my tiny home and bid me goodbye. After that day, we crossed paths with each other more often. We both knew what we wanted. I could see it in his eyes. The desire and longing to do something as small as caress my cheek. Sometimes I could see his hand reaching, but it always fell back to his side. It almost felt like some fairy tale where we eventually would get married and live happily ever after. I wouldn't dare say it out loud, but I was starting to fall in love with Ezra. His kindness and generosity. The effort he put into everything he did. 

However, five months after I had met Ezra, I fell ill. My days were spent watching from the small window in the room Dr. Williams had set for me. He gave me a month left. He said my heart was failing. As my days dwindled, I started seeing Ezra less and less. Once, he helped an elderly woman pick flowers from the stand across from my window. He picked pink lilies, my favorite flower. He met my eyes through the window but looked away. He looked pained. It seemed as if this was hurting him as much as it was hurting me. 

The last time I saw him, he spoke with my father outside the hospital. I couldn't see my father, only him. I assumed my father had told him it was only a short time until I was gone. When he started speaking, I longed to hear his voice. I wanted it to be the last thing I'd ever hear, to have him say he loves me. 

Neither of us could do anything to stop the inevitable. Ezra was a prince, which meant his whole attention had to be on the village, not just on a girl in a tattered dress, and I was destined to die. In my heart, I'd always known we couldn't be together. The king would never approve of his only son, the heir to the throne, marrying a peasant. I grabbed the mirror on the bedside table. My brown hair was tangled, and my eyes were bloodshot. It was apparent I had been crying.

 It was as if I was mourning losing him more than my own life. Sure, we had never said it aloud, but it felt like an invisible string connected us. Now it was being cut. As much as I yearned for him to walk into my room and sweep me off my feet, it never happened. Our lives crossed, but they never aligned.