day 189 | february 28, 2009 | dreaming of tinkerbells
Once upon a time, I fell in love with Peter Pan. He shared with me the freedom of flying, and an illicit love affair with life. His first gift was a world atlas from his youth, followed by his favorite shirt, then a book entitled '1000 Places To See Before You Die.' Adoring kisses every single time he could sneak one on skin, fingers dancing on palm, counting the ridges of spine, learning my shifting expressions like morse code, remembering all my favorite things. Until him, I had not had anyone offer to kiss my boo-boos away... and he did.
In that short amount of time, he was like a bashful pixie coming out of one luscious bloom, sprinkling fairy dust over me. Under the stars in a rustic island, laying on blankets. Sunrise in Hong Kong on my birthday, and walking the Wisdom Path together, sitting and talking under the wooden pillars inscribed with the heart sutra. To be able to spend blissful, adventure-filled, and carefree flying days, and stop time for a moment -- just a simple decadent moment -- and then come back down to earth again. Real life always comes a-knocking, and we continued on with the cycle of life. Except, when I came back down, I kept myself from looking back, thinking it was the grown up thing to do.
Somehow, things seemed to have crashed in Neverland. He will forever be 9 years old. His final gift to me was youth, to remain both soft but strong, to accept my restlessness, and to love the child in me. I promised him I will never forget those Neverland days. Even if he hadn't asked, some people irrevocably leave indelible marks. This is me keeping my promise.
Head in the clouds. Don't you think it would be nice to stay young and naive for a while longer?