A child with promises

I dreamed of home again. I dreamed I was grown, as I am now, and all of the cousins were getting to know me. Sky and I hung around with them. There was singing–I distinctly remember singing. We all stayed up too late. I was damp in the dream like I was when I woke from it; no matter, because I’d bought a chic little dress that worked fine in the wet. Someone told me I was really lovely with my hair all curly. I didn’t want it to end. I wanted the fete to end, I mean; what I didn’t want to lose was that sense of forever belonging somewhere bigger than a duo or a trio. Much of my belonging has been transient, dependent on circumstances or who I hadn’t ticked off that week. These people were going to love me no matter what, and I them.

That was happiness.


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