Hello, hello

Five people in a black-and-white photograph stare at me. I wouldn’t mind, but they aren’t the right people, and that makes me feel terribly stiff and polite. Never have I missed a light more than when you left, got left behind. I miss you. I love you. Which means more? Because love has seven different definitions, if you look it up in a Greek dictionary. But that’s beside the point. The point is that sometimes, you do, sometimes, you don’t. That was supposed to make sense somewhere in my timeline, but it doesn’t, so there. Good for me. There was a boy in my past, my brother actually, and I saw him grow from a weak little sprout to a tall, strong, sometimes unintentionally cruel tree. Yes, I know…we can’t stay like this forever. Well, not forever, no, but we could try to make it last longer. Because you only have eighteen years to learn how to be an adult before you are one, and that’s when all the fun ends. Oh, well. Bells will chime and call to me, and since I obviously can’t refuse a call to fairyland, I will see you when you answer the call.