Oh ominous place spellbound and unchildproofed
My least favourite chill to bear alone
Compatriots in place they'd cringe if I told you
Our best back-pocket secret our bond full-blown
I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind, I am a pioneer naive enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne
It's an easy round and even number, somehow comforting and frightening all at once. It is a dividing line, a highway down the centre of the route you thought you were taking until you turn around to look back and realize you've gone off on a tangent, found a detour and you're very near to where you meant to be but you're in a different place altogether at the same time.
(Where are you meant to be, Bridget?)
(We've got to get off the road.)
I shrug and readjust my pack. Somehow over the years it got heavier and yet somehow, over the years, I figured out how to better carry it.
I feel established and knowledgeable and experienced. I feel like a scared teenager in a bad situation, one who felt tough right up until he called her bluff.
I feel like I should fight.
I'm too tired to fight.
I feel as if today should consist of eating cake and watching good horror movies. Maybe an eight-hour sleep afterwards. In reality today will consist of laundry, more laundry, dishes, bathrooms, vaccuuming (still can't spell it, how old am I again? ) and figuring out dinner as everyone rolls in. Maybe a little horror movie time later.
There are presents on the table in front of my chair. I was sent to bed at eight last night in order to facilitate a balloon throne, constructed on the spot and these beautifully wrapped presents piled around it which I have to wait twelve hours to open. I did not sleep. I read (chipping away at The Pandora Room. Love me some Ben Walker mysteries) and then I tossed and turned and got up at five and cried.
Lochlan laughed and reminded me how I tried to comfort him when he turned this age and somehow in his mind I minimized his feelings and for that I'm sorry even though it's been five years since that happened. I didn't know that's what it feels like, saying it's just a number and the numbers don't matter.
He is right.
It isn't but it doesn't matter either.
Life is confusing. You want to be taken seriously. You want to be left alone. You want to throw glitter around indoors and dance to music that's so loud it's criminal and then you realize if you get glitter everywhere indoors you will still be finding it on the next perfectly-round, even birthday.
So don't.
But consider it. Because you can.
(Destined to reign, destined to roam.)