After all
As I read my part one last time, I laugh softly at the lines, even though a piece of me wants to cry. These words are mine, yet they seem to have been written for her. I picture her again in my mind: never aging Sleeping Beauty, waiting for her prince to come...
I do not look, but I know his eyes are still on me. I wonder what she would say if she saw her Prince Charming look at another woman like that. Or is it only wishful thinking from my part?
He still loves her, that I'm sure of. But then again, didn't he blush when he entered my dressing room? Why for?
Why am I thinking about that? I am...was...a general. I do not have time for silly thing such as love. If he likes that girl that much, so be it. I shouldn't care. After all, it's his life, not mine. And yet...
And yet, my heart shatters every time he talks about her. And yet, I sometimes catch myself staring at him wistfully. And yet, I can't help but feel jealous of a girl whose life is not truly a life. And yet, I wonder how his lips would feel on mine.
As I leave the room, I ignore my tears and get ready to sing another woman's feelings. I do have a man to impress, after all.
As I read my part one last time, I laugh softly at the lines, even though a piece of me wants to cry. These words are mine, yet they seem to have been written for her. I picture her again in my mind: never aging Sleeping Beauty, waiting for her prince to come...
I do not look, but I know his eyes are still on me. I wonder what she would say if she saw her Prince Charming look at another woman like that. Or is it only wishful thinking from my part?
He still loves her, that I'm sure of. But then again, didn't he blush when he entered my dressing room? Why for?
Why am I thinking about that? I am...was...a general. I do not have time for silly thing such as love. If he likes that girl that much, so be it. I shouldn't care. After all, it's his life, not mine. And yet...
And yet, my heart shatters every time he talks about her. And yet, I sometimes catch myself staring at him wistfully. And yet, I can't help but feel jealous of a girl whose life is not truly a life. And yet, I wonder how his lips would feel on mine.
As I leave the room, I ignore my tears and get ready to sing another woman's feelings. I do have a man to impress, after all.