We sat around the kitchen table for hours. It wasn’t that comfortable, not like the living room with the big stuffed furniture. But it was as if every one of us knew in the back of our mind moving to a different room would bring certain death upon the uproarious conversation at hand. We created SO MANY memories around that kitchen table. I remember nights laughing until I couldn’t breath. We created, inspired, solved the world’s problems, and developed deep and rich bonds.
Well, bonds that held until we grew into adulthood at least.
I think most children realize the tragedy of growing up. I knew I was definitely a Neverland child. There was this deathly, preeminent fear of growing up, even though I desperately wanted to be a different age than I was. Think about this for a moment with me – what an incredibly big worry for someone so very small.
I wonder if part of me knew deep down everything would change when we became adults. I think we realized the things which transpired in adulthood would surely tear is apart. But as kids, nobody cared enough to make it a big deal.
I was the bossy one. Over time, they grew weary of my constant opinion, and even though I’ve improved a lot, events have occurred which simply cannot bind together what was broken.
You know I speak the truth. Not all relationships can be reconciled.
I miss the late nights. I miss the creativity. I miss the laughter. Adults just don’t connect like that. We’re far too busy, much too tired, and simply too hurt to be that transparent again.
This has been,
Fanny T. Crispin