A Letter to A Lost Lover
Dear Peter,
I wished, that night, I had followed you and Tinkerbell and forgotten all about Mama and Papa and the life I could have left behind. Why did I remember Mama sitting in her rocking chair waiting? Why did I remember Papa smoking his pipe, watching Nana chasing her tail in the yard? Oh, Peter, you gave me the moon and the stars and I left you to chase city lights and street lights.
I remember how you came to visit me a few times after I had left you, hovering outside my window like a ghost. I remember closing the curtains and pushing you to the back of my mind so that I didn't have to think about you. I remember telling myself that you weren't real and I remember the small little pink pills Mama would buy for me so that I stopped thinking about you. I remember the looks Papa and the boys gave me when I spoke fondly of you, looks of worry and distress. I stopped talking after that, they didn't understand.
I grew up Peter. I became the perfect woman just like how auntie wanted me to be. I married a rich man and had a little girl. I still take the same little pink pills Mama gave me. I wonder if you visit my little girl the same way you visited me. If you don't see me, it's because I'm not there. My husband told me that it would be much better if I stayed here in these four white and blue walls and in my pretty pink bed. There are beautiful purple flowers that lay in this delicate white vase beside my bed. Outside, there is a beautiful garden with a tree just like the one you live in. I'm not supposed to go out though, they say that I'm not well enough.
I'm going to try flying today after I have had my another dose of those little pink pills. I can't float anymore like you taught me to, so I'm going to throw myself off the roof. I will float for a moment. But then, I will remember how I left you and grew up. I will fall. Maybe, you will be waiting at the bottom to catch me. Just like in my imagination.
With lots of acorns and love,
Wendy Darling