The Ending of Phillip and I.

Philip.

Elizabeth stood motionless staring down at her dead husband's body. Her love, her family, her best friend and more was now set to be taken outside of Windsor's Castle for his burial. Dare she cry? Absolutely not, as she with much prestige would not be seen in such a vulnerable state. The public would eat it all up if there was even 1 blurry snapshot leaked.  That's what she hated most about being the Queen. She wish she was a commoner, so she could just ball her eyes out in an ugly and un-lady like manner but she couldn't dare slip up. But she just couldn't seem to process it no matter how hard she tried. She was a widow now. Her new synonym now literally meaning alone. Someone who's love has passed. Someone who cannot and cannot feel the warmth of another. Not that she would try, no wealthy old man could ever replace the empty space Phillip now left in her soul. Nobody could make her genuinely smile like he could, nobody would ever understand the pressure of the public and how difficult it was and is to be the Queen. The ruler of a land with good and bad, beautiful and ugly, rich and poor, she was the person who stood over this place. One of the only last standing people that can look at her straight away and think England. One of the only last living of their purebred line of Kings, Queens, Princes, Princess', Dukes and Duchess' and so on.  With Philip she wasn't alone. She could share such a significant burden with him too, but now he was gone. She was left to fend for herself. She was the only one to go on National trips to various countries, she was lonely. And she wants to kill herself because of it. Because it was the one thing she dreaded the most; the one thing she always slapped herself out of, the one thing she would tear up thinking about.

             'The ending of  Philip and I.'

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