[I stared at him wishing, more than anything, that the future would never happen. That thus moment would last forever, or, if it couldn't, that I would stop existing when it did.]

You should always forgive your enemies. Nothing makes them so tired with anger and disbelief. But him, I couldn't forgive. Smug and smarmy, determination etched in the brow of his lucid honeyed eyes. I wanted more than anything for him to slip, even if just for a moment, disproving that guarantee that he was the one with all the power.

He had been the antidote to the monotony that cursed my daily life. Capturing me so quickly, hand snatching in close circles like an unaware firefly in a child's jar. Admiring my beauty and lightning zest, so tempted by the enemy.

I've always hated the story of Romeo and Juliet. All the odds are against them, and for some damn reason, they can't get it together in the end, despite their faith, despite their hope, despite their love. If they were meant to be star crossed then they wouldn't have accepted that fate. They could have figured it out and run for hell and high water. Off into the distance, happily ever after. Everyone deserves that.

So why did I even care that Romeo was staring down Juliet, all coffee colored curls spilling over his chiseled features? I did, but I shouldn't.

[Not all relationships are meant to last forever, even if you're in love. Some loves stories are short stories, but they're love stories all the same.]

You probably shouldn't put stumbling blocks before someone who is blind. In my case, I'd been blindsided by beauty.

Her voice was the first thing that I'd known about her, chilling and deliberate. Golden tongue threading through lyrics and words, placing meaning in every note. And then I saw her. Raven whorls of hair cascading down her olive backside, swirling with her every step, bee-stung cranberry pout belting out Barbara better than she could've ever imagined.

I've never once thought that I could meet an equal, until I heard her sing, unbreakably genuine smile tattooed on her lips. If I believed in irony, it wouldn't be lost on me that Romeo was seeing Juliet for the first time.

[The funny thing about a broken heart was that it wasn't like glass; there weren't pieces or shards to be picked up. A heart was an organ. When it broke, it tore open. Years later, only scar tissue remained to remind you of the wound that had once been there.]

I hated him as he was triumphant in his victory. The gold of my dress seemed dimmer and depleted as his trophy was hoisted for our entire world to see. And then he glances to see, smartly, if I am watching, waiting, looking. He wants that satisfaction. I didn't want to give it to him. He already had made scars that only I, and he, could see. He didn't deserve another.

It's a little overwhelming to feel like this when I have always loved and cared for an awkwardly stupid boy who makes the world taste better when he opens his mouth and let's out carefree light. It's easy and ridiculous and makes me giggle with joy until I give great big belly laughs that turn into feeling at home in his arms.

My whole world fits inside of those arms. I don't have to worry about Romeo because I have something better. Something that I've wanted since I was a little girl with pink ribbons and patent black Mary-Janes and big frilly tutus. Prince Charming.

[I guess all I really care about are the what ifs.]

All I wanted was for her to actually look at me and see the boy I had been for her. The boy I had always wanted to be for her. Not the enemy, not Romeo, but that's all I could ever be for her. I didn't deserve that look, the one I craved so badly I was dehydrated for it.

I am fairly certain that once you become blindsided, you also become blind. At least when it comes to Juliet. Her beauty is far too much for any mortal man to handle, burned into my memory, day after day.

I was cast into this role long before I had ever met, loved her. Clichéd and outdated, but still the most popular love story the world has ever known. And I wondered why that was because if Romeo and Juliet had ever gotten their shit together, they could have run away, hell or high water. Off into the distance, happily ever after. I could have been Prince Charming.

What if I had been Prince Charming?