The Reason For My Long Beard

When I was but a boy, I saw the Blue Angel.
Her photograph, of course, just her photograph.
Then, on a night of great despondence
regarding the ability to ever find true love,

She said something to me.

At this point my entire life had gone astray.
I had killed some prince or something in some
rudimentary village, and hence was not allowed
to go beyond certain Boundaries.

I didn't tell her that I killed a prince at first.
I waited, until I knew she was really my Blue Angel,
then snuck a small cavern in the cave of my infinite
secret caverns, where I sneak my secrets.

I showed it to her there.

This did not seem to affect her, and she continued heroically,
but I knew it meant a lot to her, and I could only observe.
She came to visit me, and I remember for unprecedented reason
they let both of us into the terminal, and I was able to watch

as she returned to her home.

After that, I was left to my own devices.
We spoke again, of course, frequently,
yet I was always left feeling incapable,
for some reason.

My sadness would pour into all my illusions,
those days. Random women on the road,
the sort of anonymous harpies one may find
at perhaps a random forum.

I sent her a lot of emails.
I even waited until 2012, and sent her
a trick from Grand Illusions for her birthday.
(Sending a trick of my own would be crass).

The difference, of course, between Eisenheim
the actual difference, between the master and me,
is that I messed up in the middle.

I don't know how I did it, but I lost her.