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we tried making sense of our world. we ate strawberry jam for breakfast, we dragged our stuffed pets behind us on strings, we jumped on trampolines. we found a jungle in our backyard- the ballerina, the fireman and me. we swung from the branches of trees, took in long car drives from the back seat, invited the garden fairies for a cup of sugary tea.

we tried making sense of our world. we built sandcastles to house our unanswered questions- most of which we had inherited before we’d even learned to spell. we didn’t always know where to take them so we took them to each other. or they took them to me. they (the cinnamon-bun-boy with the trusting eyes, the girl with the bangs and the most eager smile) they were mine to care for.

And I (the girl who wished away her freckles) I told stories in the dark to chase away their unwelcomed dreams. I grasped at broken branches, at cobwebs, at any water droplets I could reach- trying to button something together they could stand on. I so meant to be the fearless leader. Always hoping they wouldn’t notice the holes in my sneakers, wouldn’t notice that my worldview was just a few sizes too big.