Prelude: Camelot
I don’t want to spoil the ending, but if you’ve studied my life you’ll know it already and it won’t come as a shock.
Why did I remain single my whole life? It’s alright - many have asked. The truth is, I almost married a man, once upon a time. For a brief, shining moment, all the hope of happily-ever-afters and scampering children and rocking chairs on the front porch was mine. And during that time, I allowed myself the luxury of believing it would happen. That something so good could happen to someone so wretched as myself. A loathsome creature like me was loved by Goodness Incarnate.
It was magical. It was Camelot.
But, as any great playwright can attest, the reign was not to last.
I was Jackie Kennedy, six white horses dragging Hope’s corpse to Arlington. Numb, I watched shovelfuls bury the happily-ever-afters and the scampering children and the rocking chairs on the front porch until nothing remained but a dry, dead brown lump of dirt.
I would have rather lost my life than lost him. I’ve spent the rest of mine trying to become the woman he believed I was, the hero he saw me as capable of becoming.
I hope I’ve made you proud, sweetheart. All I am, all I’ve done is all because of you. Hope to see you soon.
All my heart,
S. R.
