Once upon a time, there was a lonely prince. The image is so clear. A pond and a willow tree. Fog rolling across still water. And a boy with a book, pretending to look busy as he reads all alone. I’m not sure how I know he’s just pretending, but the way it feels to have to act like a kid who doesn’t want friends… the pain of that curls tight in my lungs, coiling right in the spot that squeezes tears into my throat.
