On Being Peter Pan

It’s funny that there are people who don’t know me from my 20’s. When I was old and ambitious. I was wicked and cruel. But I made a mean turkey.

If I’d have remained on that trajectory, who’d I be now? Married? Divorced? A mum (if I’d have made it with Christian Bale)? Would I be packing lunches for the children right now with little love notes?

Would I read hardcover books before bed with reading glasses? Would my pajamas be luxurious or a ripped t-shirt from days when I still listened to live music and a pair of panties? Would my hair always be a bit of a mess?

What car would I drive? Would I crave silence? A life that could have been? Would the only things I had in common with my friends be a lack of sleep; a lack of sex; a mortgage; and mutual friendship based on similar carpool schedules?

As it stands I have green hair and slightly crooked bangs. I don’t wake until 10 a.m. If I want silence, all I have to do is turn off my phone. I do what I want in the quantities I want to and I don’t answer to pre-pubescent human beings.

None of this is by choice. I didn’t choose solitude or a life less ordinary. Those decisions were made for me. I can’t go back and change them. What I can do, however, is live this life to the fullest and share it. If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if everything in life went wrong, just read me. Trust me, it’s not as great or awful as it looks. Just a bit…different.

I’ve got to go now. Tinkerbell is asking for attention.

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