how could i be loved by everyone, when the woman who should've loved me the most didn't? that was an understatement, no one loved me, much less my own mother. sometimes i imagine to myself that maybe, somewhere out there, she regrets leaving me. she regrets not giving me another chance. she regrets leaving a baby who couldn't even beg her to stay. but more likely than not, she just regrets having me at all.
i stared at the moon, astounded that she was under the same dark sky, wherever she may be. could she be looking up at it too? thinking about me? it was hopeless, thinking that. because no matter what the case was, i should know better than to sulk around hoping that she'd show up to bring me home. to give me the life i've never had. to brush my hair or cry with me over my first heartbreak. to watch me walk down the aisle. i never knew her at all, but sometimes i imagine that hurts just as much.
i felt selfish. i peered back into the bedroom, seeing the dim moonlight shine on the soft faces of the other kids. the other kids who also had their parents taken away from them. who am i to complain when they are in the same boat, or even a worse boat.
i couldn't sleep, like most nights. many of the other children were younger than me, they looked up to me, they counted on me to tuck them under the covers and assure them it was okay. i wished someone was here to tell me that.
i sat down on the small balcony, overlooking the city. at least the view of london was pretty. i loved to watch all the people pass by, and imagine what their lives may be like. most of all, i loved to watch the palace. it was distant, but close enough for me to see its golden light and carefully crafted architecture.
i read a lot of books about royalty, and how horrible life really was there, sheltered from the outside world. but from someone who had everything taken from them, i yearned to have life handed to me on a silver platter.
