Diary of His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales
This afternoon was either the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life...or the most honest. Right now it's hard to tell which one.
I'm almost afraid to put anything down in writing because I don't know who may find it.
Which is worse—my deception, or the fact that Meg may be so nosy she would read my locked diary?
I have to talk to William over the holidays. Maybe I can get him to ask Catherine to keep Meg busy for an afternoon so we can get away for a chat. He's the only one I trust right now to give me honest advice.
I look into Samantha's eyes and I see my past and my future all rolled into one. The way I used to be...more carefree, more...authentic. Even in the short time I've spent with her, I know that she could bring that side of me out of hiding...and that's in stark contrast to the future I am headed towards with Meghan.
Tonight was three hours of small talk hell at a holiday gala for one of the Prince of Wales charities. Meg was at her best in a blue evening gown, smiling and winning over all the photographers and old gents. I drank too much, earning me her look of disapproval more than once. She's in a snit and I'm in here doing my best not to make comparisons between her and Sam.
I have to talk to someone.
I'm not sure I can go through with this wedding.
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