For her birthday, The Princess wanted to go to the carnival.

She loved the carnival. She'd been going to it ever since she was little; the rides, the people, the food, the music. To most, these were just distractions; fun things to do if you could afford a ticket. To her, they were memories. The wonder and strangeness of the carnival was a part of her.

I was lucky enough to go with her. I am lucky enough to have known her for as long as I have, to have borne witness to her passions, loves, eccentricities, hates, sorrows, joys, everything that made her who she was. I loved all of it. I loved her. And she loved me too.

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The carnival was created by the mad scientist, Zephy Argo. He was a peculiar man, with a penchant for the strange, the mystical, and the bizarre. He'd peppered his carnival with all manner of amusements. Genetically engineered creatures that smiled and danced and sang for the guests. Machines that could shrink you down to the size of a grain of sand, and let you explore the microscopic world at your feet. Rockets that would launch you into space, and for just a few minutes, let you see the glory of Mother Earth, from a view typically reserved for God himself.

Argo.

The man who wanted to take all the beauty and wonder of the world, and share it with as many people as possible. He loved the universe. It was complex and strange, and unknowable, and yet so beautiful, and he fell in love with it.

The Princess is like Argo. She too admires the beauty of creation.

I love her the way Argo loved the universe.

She loves me. But I am not her soul mate. The universe is her soul mate, as it was for Argo.

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The first ride we went on at the carnival was the time machine. A tour through the greatest moments in human history. From our vehicle, we could see the pyramids of Egypt, the roads of Rome, and the first man to walk on the moon. Her eyes lit up at these wonders, swept away by their grandeur. I was swept away by her eyes.

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I am not good enough for her. She loves the world, and wishes to spread its beauty and wonder for all to see. She wishes to dive into its magic, with the determination of a monk.

I just want to lie by her side, and hold her hand. I am a simple creature, and she has much loftier goals. I cannot get in her way. She wouldn't let me do that. And I would never want to do that, even if I could. I'd be killing the very thing I love.

One day she will leave me, and pursue her dreams, and become immortal and divine, like Mr. Argo. I will stay on Earth, rotting away in mediocrity, weeping for my lost princess. Maybe I will one day move past my sorrow. Maybe I too will learn to love more important things, and be happy as I pursue them with every fiber of my being.

Maybe.