When we were younger and thinner, we all dreamed of someday meeting our Prince Charming. We had in our all-too-naive heads idealized versions of a man who would sweep us off our feet, ride us off into the horizon, and take us to the land of happy-ever-after. End of story.
At least that was the version I had in all my fairy tale books.
Prince Charming must be really tired by now. Imagine being responsible for taking us all to our happy-ever-afters. We were made to believe that there was just no other way to get there, not if we walked all our days to the ends of the earth.
There is a tragic flaw in this fairy tale. Happy-ever-after is not some destination that we arrive at after some trip. True love stories have no end, only constant beginnings and adventures. Happy-every-after is a neverending journey fraught with tensions and sacrifices, discoveries and rewards. True vows are not made on altars for show, instead they are made anew every secret moment when we choose to stay. In the silence of tears, true love stories are never ended.
I have staked my claim on my happy-ever-after with a man who is not Prince Charming, but whose love for me is patient and abiding, and an ever wonderful surprise.
I have decided to walk all my days to the ends of the earth with Robert. His hand in mine, mine in his. Come what may.
