Have you ever ran your fingertips across something and thought how did that get here? How did i get here? Why am i even here in the first place? My exsistence, what does it mean? And more importantly does it actually mean anything? My half sister, i get that fully. She has a husband, three children to think of and stick around for. I remember the day i first met her oldest Beth, who is now ten. Sarah was only just sixteen when Beth was born and so you can imagine how my dad took that news. Sparks and fireworks were there alright but in the context with most new babies? Not so much.
It just amazes me sometimes. How much can change and how much you can think about life differently as you grow. I grew up surrounded by pirate ships and princesses, little girls at nursery with their curly blonde hair and pink fairy wings, and then there was me. I was never going to be Prince Charming like the other boys seemingly have grown up to be. Their Mums all "My boy's running our family business, doing great too." Or the sportish type who worship skinny girls with plastic boobs yet still have Mom's undying love and appraisal for her little soldier.
No, i was the kid that did things differently. Fairy wings? I'd rip them off your shoulders. Blonde curls? I'd take a pair of scissors and every lock would vanish in a split second. Child's play you could call it. Every kid does things like that, no matter how much you blame their parents it isn't their fault. My Dad for example, raised me with intentions, sadly for him, i did things my way and i will continue to and that's why i'm sat staring out of my window wondering whether i should try to find out more about this boy i seem to have crossed paths with.
"His face when he spilled the coffee! Oh my! I could've died!" Willow's cackling as we walk through the subway laced with homeless people and drunks. Welcome to town i guess. "Willow." I say her name one time and she knows the translation by now. Shut up or i'll trip you over and make sure you land on that drunken man, which earns me the punch i just recieved. "He was cute though, I wonder what his name is." She ponders with a glittering movement in her emerald green eyes and it's all too familiar.
Jake. Sam. Brett. That look. That little twitch. I knew what followed and i knew how those all ended. I'm protective sure, always have been over those i care about but it's something different this time. I don't give her my blessing to get him, and i have no reason or even the slightest inkling as to why.