Seeking that Cherished Child

I can’t believe everything inside of me is so rotten. What happened to that bright and open girl, that sensitive soul with an endless heart? Is she still in there? Am I what she has become? How could I let that happen… to her — to us?

I want to talk to her, but I don’t know what to say. Maybe I want to apologize; to tell her I'm sorry for not living up to our potential. I have forgotten her dreams — worse, I don’t even recall if she had any.

If I were to talk to her, I am afraid I would just make her care for me. Put her in the parent role, that position I place so many others in unfairly. How cruel of me, to expect her to take up that mantle; as if by carrying that burden too soon wasn’t what brought us here in the first place… Was that what occurred? In my haste to become what I thought was (for lack of a better word), expected — what was “normal” — did I take on too much?

That which was not even mine to hold?

Or was this sense of duty, this position, thrust upon me?

How many times will I look to the past to change the future?

When will I start from scratch — right here, right now?

I could do that, couldn’t I… ?

"Hey"

"Hi"

"It’s me... (who else would it be?)

How are you?"

"I’m fine" —sing-song-voice, bouncing around.

See? She is good? She isn’t even worried about you.

But I remember worrying… a lot…

I want to ask what she is doing, but my words kind of dry up in my mouth.

I just stand and watch for a bit.

She comes over to me.

"Want to play?"

I think about it, and start to cry.

“Yes”, I say through tight lips; lids and cheeks, tear stained and hot.

She takes my hand and leads me away… or is it toward…

I want to forge a new relationship with myself — have done so in the past — but it is tricky, you know? You have to practice at it. Keep up the routine, or else the pathway becomes overgrown.

Maybe because little feet only cover so much ground….

Could you imagine how much wider the path would be if larger feet were to tread? If adult bodies learned again how to play? What if I were to walk beside her?

The path would become even bigger.

This thought makes me smile.

I must remind myself that I do not always feel this way.

Sometimes I feel capable. I am stronger than I feel.

If she believed that of me — it’s possible.

I could make that a reality

Somewhere off in a field, she smiles.