So he got engaged. So he is finally walking the isle next year. So broken hearts are scattered everywhere. So depression is the main psychological ailment by hopeful princesses of their own cribs nowadays. So the most eligible bachelor has ended his road to single hood and has taken the right turn towards matrimony. Ah, the greatest form of greed in history!
Prince William's engagement to Kate Middleton has been announced worldwide, resulting in stoppage in the heart rate of millions and billions of lasses that loved him since the beginning. I am not one of them. Two of my friends are. And after reading one of my best pals blog about it, I wondered. Wasted time over wasted love, is it invaluable?
If loving (if not infatuation, that is) someone from afar is a sin, and sobbing over unrecognized affection is madness, then no one is licensed to endearment. The world is a place for lovers as well as hopeless romantics. Romantics who are an epitome of drama and satire over intangible characters, aching and smiling at the diminutive beacon of hope at the thought of their prince. At the mere thought of that special someone. They, too, have the right to love. And be hurt.
Prince William has the right to be happy. He will live eternally with his chosen wife. Half of the world will be ecstatic. Half of it will lament.
For the cherries.
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