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I
Why do some questions never get answered? This is a question I’ve pondered after my encounter with the golden haired boy, the little prince. I’ve shared that fateful day with the world, but no one has ever asked why I shared it. The little prince, full of wonder. My little prince. He had left my gaze too quickly.
I never got my questions answered. My curiosity caught up to my heart, I couldn’t bear the pain of knowing he’s watching those sunsets alone. He’s not watching it with someone. Not holding their hand. Not having a shoulder to rest his head on. I don’t know if he’s lonely. I am. I miss his laugh. I miss seeing his eyes light up upon seeing the well. Upon seeing me. I know I’m being selfish. Putting my needs before his. But those questions. They need answers. It's been six years since that wonderful day. I’m twenty. I hate giving into the grown-ups. I’m almost twenty one. It’s almost the seventh anniversary of his fall.
My pilots license hasn’t been renewed since I crash landed a few years ago. But crashes aren’t bad. They’re what led me to him. To the little prince. My little prince. When I stay up late finishing my work and I look to the stars, I see a bright star. I wish with all my heart that he gazes at the sunsets and images my hand in his.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I have a flight. A flight to Africa. A flight that I dread so deeply, but a flight that will fill my heart with joy of the thought of seeing him again. I wonder if he’s grown. If that fateful boy grew like me. I wonder how the vain flower has been. How the sunsets have made him feel. How…how long has his last thought of me been. Has it been a year? A minute? I can't be sure my questions will ever be answered. My prince was never one to be so transparent. But I want to see…I want to see that tint of red appear on his face like a painting being finished after hours of work. Like a paper ending with its final period. I want to see the boy that changed my life.
II
My feet hit the wooden plank with many others as I take a deep breath. I love the idea of finally having his warmth in my arms. I love it…but I know that it's also a big fantasy. I landed in the middle of the desert. I don't want to discourage myself. “Look for the well,” I mutter under my breath, I said it once, but my head has those words running in my mind like a tornado drifting it to every place I think of. My feet pick up the pace, my suitcase is sparse to the usual trip. A tent, three canteens of water, a sleeping bag, snake repellent, and a faux rose. I know it's a sham, but it's my gift. If I don't find the well…if my water drops its last drop and my snake repellent only sprays air, it will be the last thing I hold. The last thing I will know. It'll be my last thought. The prince. My little prince.
They guide the people around me to a few different tour-guides. But me? I follow out the door and sprint. I close my eyes, I don't care that I’m basically doing a Kamikaze Mission. It's worth it. I hear yelling, I go faster. “Keep going.” I tell myself as I go faster. The yelling goes fainter and my legs stop once I can't hear anything but my heartbeat in my ears. My legs suddenly go weak. The adrenaline rush is over. I need to rest. I pull out the tent and swiftly set it up. I put my sleeping bag in it and close my eyes, I feel tears well up in them. “Soon, my prince,” I whisper as the tear trails down my red cheek, “soon I'll be able to hug you as tight as I can.” I let my mind wander as I slowly fall asleep to the quiet sound of sand bristling against itself.
III
I awake at the sliver of light on the horizon. Daybreak. Good. I quickly pack up my stuff and start walking again. The sun is hot on my face as I sip my water, the first canteen already out. I sit down and stare at the sunrise. My eyes squint as I see a small thing in my hazy and groggy vision. “I…no…it can’t be…” I say as I stand up and grab my bag, then run at high speed. Like my life depends on it. It does depend on it.
My legs stop when I reach it. A small stone well. “I…I reached it…” I say in a faint voice as my heartbeats faster and louder. “Oh my god…I…I did it! I did it!” I shout at the top of my lungs. I feel a relief fill my body as a sense of accomplishment waves through my body. Then, I fall. I'm exhausted. I lay there for a few moments, just to…think.
“Can you draw me a sheep?” Those words run through my mind. I wish I heard his voice again. Just those words leaving his lips would satisfy the feeling of emptiness I’ve been feeling for all these years. I feel my stomach drop as realization fills my lungs, blocking my air. I’m alone in a dessert. Alone. No golden haired boy in my arms. No hand in mine. No sunset to share. Defeat fills my glassy eyes. I grab the rose and hold it tightly to my chest, tears trailing down my face as I feel my fingers tremble at how hard I grip the rose.
I’m alone, and it's all because of my stupidity. I love something I can never have. I love a rose with thorns, a rose I can never see again.
I smile, my tears run dry as I laugh. “I love him…” I laugh more as I feel my stomach drop more. “I love him! Godamnit! I’ll never be able to have him in my arms again!” I shout as my throat closes up.
I can never have him in my arms again.
IV
I awake to crust in my eyes and bleeding knuckles. Why couldn’t he have stayed? Why do I have to bear the pain of not having his arms wrapped around me? He wouldn’t answer my questions. He never would.
When the sand buries my body, I hope my prince finds my rose and shows his rose. “I’ll miss you, my little prince.” I whisper as I close my teary eyes. “I love you.” I say as the last bit of air leaves my parched lips.
I love you my little prince.