Harry and Meghan, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

by Angela K. Durden
Citizen Journalist. Business writer, novelist, songwriter, and Technology inventor protecting creator's copyrights. 

Harry and Meghan

Sitting in a tree.

K-I-S-S-

I-N-G.

First came lust.

Then came woebegone.

Then came Harry with a

pretty new bonbon.

You've seen it before. The predatory female with the Come-to-Mama dominatrix oozing out of her, and the royal heir du jour drooling all over himself as he kneels before her in submission, twinkle in his eye, collar around his neck, and says, "I've been a ba-a-a-a-ad boy. You must teach me a lesson."

We who are left to pick up the pieces are the ones who must watch in horror as the female rolls over the heir, his family, and their reputations like the Wermacht ran over Europe. It is never pretty.

But Harry, fifth in line to the throne, doesn't have the weight of imminent kingship waiting in the wings for him, so he's always had the luxury and freedom to be the wild child. What does it matter if he picks a mate who will screw him out of millions?

It doesn't — and here's why.

It's not the first time this has happened. The royal family, knowing well their predilections and lineage, have policies and procedures in place to handle these sorts of things.

Even Harry's mother learned that. For all she was the People's Princess — beloved and popular, a strong position she manipulated well — she's the one who had to move out of town and find herself a new sugar daddy.

Here's how the Harry-Meghan thing will play out.

Much like his forebears, Harry likes pain. So he'll make one disastrous marriage, kids will come. Divorce to follow. He'll jet around the world in a boink fest wilder than he's previously done. After all, his ego has been hurt, and the waiting royal wannabees have auditions to attend.

But then he'll get to be around fifty or so. He'll be tired. Ennui will set in. He will find himself a great second wife where true love will exist. Just before he goes into that long goodnight, she'll hold his hand and he'll say, "If only I had found you when I was younger." And she'll say, "It's best we didn't meet earlier because I would have killed you." He'll barely chuckle as she adds, "We met at the right time." Then he'll smile and die happy.

I won't be around to see that, but I don't have to be to know it will happen. It's the way of the world.

Even Wallis Simpson, Harry's great great uncle's American divorcée wife, a dominatrix if we ever saw one, mellowed at the end. When Edward died she wondered why he had given up so much (the throne) for so little (her).