i am wendy

Twin: Do you tell stories?
Wendy: Yes.
Curly: Then you’re perfect.

– from J.M.Barrie’s Peter Pan

D says he’s frustrated.
Because I don’t see you as much as I want to.
I’ve neglected him, after his move down here from the North. We go for a walk into the city, grey under an encroaching winter. I tuck my arm into his, even though our height discrepancy means my arm’s almost hanging by my shoulder. He mustn’t forget how I love him so.

My little brother lets me know he can’t wait to hang out again. We try to see each other once a month. He’s a sweetheart – the type who notices the little things and sends me little I’m-thinking-of-you, can’t-wait-to-hear-your-stories messages throughout my day. He’s a great hugger too.

K, of the big-heart and the warm words, sends me a text, to remind me how amazing I am. He’s always affirming and building me up. When there’s no-one else who I can be frustratedly still around, it’s him I share my silence with.

I hadn’t realized how many Lost Boys I’d collected over the past few years. Tall, short, quiet, loud, dark, pale, insecure, confident, kind, generous, sad, hurt – the only two things they share in common: I loved them into loving me, and consequently, they’ve let me into their lives in a way very few others have been allowed to.

Who is going to look after my Lost Boys when I leave? How do I tell them that I can’t stay, and that if I don’t stay, I can’t promise that I’ll be able to keep the Peter Pan Code?

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.”

E asks how long I won’t be here. When I tell him, his eyes cloud over, but he tries hide it before slight nod of his head. Oh. That’s longer than I thought.

Will they remember me, like I’ll remember them?

“You know that place between sleeping and awake, that place where you can still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always think of you.”


~ by translating for peas on May 23, 2011.

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