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Second Star to the Right

Longing for the carefree days of childhood

By Megan JossPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
2

There’s a famous story that starts, “All children grow up, except one.” And just once more, I wish that weren’t true. I wish that Wendy Darling had chosen to stay, had cast aside expectations and the bitter days of growing up and stayed in youth and paradise forever, like I wish I could.

I think back to long evenings in the summer, riding bikes with friends, no worries or cares except, “How fast can I go?” and the fear of coming home late to parents, who scold and say look at the time. There were no thoughts of homework unfinished or projects not done.

I think back to afternoons of playing in the garden, mixing potions of the pretend sort, with mud and leaves, believing that magic is just the right brew away, within my grasp. I never doubted I had power until someone told me I did not.

I think of mornings, watching cartoons and giggling at the characters, never thinking of work or struggles. Only fleeting moments of joy that I believed lasted forever, the golden sparks of happiness delicious on my tongue.

I think of those times in the park, of leaving gravity behind, swinging higher and higher, throwing my body back and forth to try and touch the sky. There was always the thrill of jumping off, of knowing that I could fly.

There are no children at the park now. Only me in the haunting silence of night, where the wind rustles through empty spaces. In a world abandoned and forgotten, there is me. I sit on the swing and push myself.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

I think of the days gone past, of the imaginings I had that had no purpose for reality or reason. I stare up and the endless darkness of the night sky, eyes adjusting to see the stars strung like diamonds in the velvet night. If I look closely, I can almost see the fabled ‘second star to the right’.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

I think of those times on the swings, with no worries apart from the height I could reach, bending backwards to watch the rolling waves of blue sky stretch for endless miles, readying myself to lift off and fly. Where will ‘straight until morning’ take me?

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Just once more, I wish I could still fly.

Just once more, I wish.....

I look.

I leap.

But there is only gravity for me. The sharp sting of hitting the ground after reaching far too high. I walk home, feeling like a lost boy, always searching for never land.

Then, the cool air hits my face and I breathe in. I think of all the things I have now I have finished growing up. The perks that come with putting away childish things.

The wind in my face as I drive along roads, with music blaring, celebrating life. The sweet tang of wine on my tongue a toast to friendship, long weeks of work and satisfaction. I think of making my own decisions, choices I would once have had to ask permission for.

Parties, working, cooking, falling in love. Things that as a child I scorned and laughed at adults for. Small pleasures I didn’t realise I would once share.

There is a famous story that starts, “All children grow up, except one.” I understand Wendy now. Wendy Darling, the girl who chose to grow up. While Peter Pan brings his tempting joy and carefree ways, it is better to know oneself, to take joy in who you will become in long days of life than wait to hunt for treasure on an island of eternal stillness.

As dawn breaks above me, I head for home, second street on the right, straight on for morning.

coping
2

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