Being strong is not a choice.
Memories come back to her everyday; the memories of her dear prince. The small memories, things no other person would think to capture in with their eyes, to store in their memory for later. They flood into the forefront of her mind so intensely, she's left with the immense fluttering of butterflies in her chest. She remembers the little way he smiled, and how rare a sight it was. Every twitch upward of the mouth, her mind clicked and captured it. She wished she could keep him like that in her memory, never to be the unhappy boy who locked himself away.
She's wishes she could see him again.
She must pray and be strong, though. Pray, pray, pray, and hope that she will be returned to her Komali one day.
Being strong is not a choice. A person must be strong to survive.