Letters to Prince Charming

Dear Carl,

Do you remember the first day that I met you? Not the first day we met but when I meet you? I don’t remember the first day we met, I was a baby.

I started this because, well because as I sit here something hit my nose, it was a smell that reminded me of you.

The smells of your rough wrinkled skin after you have been outside working all day. It’s a mixture of old people and heat. Odd but comforting. I have no idea where the smell is coming from but I never want it to leave, back to my story though.

The first day I met you I was 7 or 8, in between there somewhere, I held Damara’s hand as we walked into your small apartment in Phoenix. I was nervous yet excited to get out of the hot sun. I wasn’t sure where we were going, I didn’t even know we were meeting you until she said.

Walking in everyone but me wore a big cheerful smile, I wasn’t upset just curious. My lips formed a straight line as I looked up at you in confusion.

“This is my dad,” Damara, my half-sister introduced you to me and you hugged me. That’s the first time I smelled it, your unforgettable scent.

You two started to talk as I sat on the bed with my hand intertwined as I played with them. The door was open and a neighbor walked by saying a quick hello to you, this next part I will never forget, stopping him you pulled him in and said:

“Hey I’d like you to meet my two daughters.” Looking up confused I just shook the man’s hand wondering why you said two instead of one but didn’t speak a word about it.

I still think of this moment every time I’m reminded of you.