La Rose

The Little Prince was so in love with the rose. It didn't happen instantly. He watered her and cared for her, kept her warm, listened to her. He invested in her. The rose was not easy to love. She was difficult and proud, stubborn, almost a narcissist. But the Prince kept watering her, kept listening to her.

He began to look beyond the pride. He did not see the beauty anymore. He couldn't see the love when it happened. It wasn't in the water, it wasn't in the conversations. But that's how he knew it was love. The most important things can't be seen. The love was in all the time he had invested in her, the responsibility he had taken on in caring for her. She tamed him.

The Prince knew that you must take responsibility for that which you tame. It is only fair. You cannot tame something and then expect it to become untame again, to fend for itself, to be alone. The Prince thought that he was taming her as well. But he was not. She was not tame, she did not understand, she did not really see him at all. She enjoyed being kept warm, enjoyed being watered, enjoyed having an admirer. But it didn't really matter if it was the Little Prince or any other thing that came along. She was not about to take responsibility for anything, let alone the Little Prince's heart.

And so he left. He went far, far away. He worried about his rose, he thought about his rose. He still loved his rose. He was still tamed. But he could not be there with her anymore. He had to keep his heart as far away as he could because although it was tamed, the rose would never care for it. He was tamed for nothing. The rose was important because of the time he had spent on her. But he was useless because of the time the rose would not spend on him. The Prince could not keep allowing himself to be tamed for nothing.

There was nothing else to do but leave.