The Boy That Hates Books

Keep Pretending

When you're young you wish to grow older.

Prancing around in Mummy's high heels and clinging on to Daddy's briefcase. Gripping it tightly, as if you are holding your whole world between your fingertips and if you let go, that world you knew so well would come crumbling down.

The steady ground beneath your feet would move, and your familiar surroundings would shift and change into something new, the old ones gently fading out into nothing.

The people you used to see every day and know so well, would become strangers. And the buildings you once passed had been knocked down and demolished long before you had even noticed they were gone.

The point is, life can change within the blink of an eye.

And soon that briefcase that held within it the contents of all your hopes and dreams, turns into a hand. A hand of another person. And truly then, will you be holding your whole world between your fingertips.

In which Kirsten finally says hello to someone she never got to say goodbye to.

It took us five houses until we found his.

Something told me that he was here. It was one of those sub-conscious feelings that you can't really explain, but it's there nevertheless.

I could smell fresh paint whilst I stared at the door knob, waiting for the inevitable. He was in there, I knew it. We were about to meet again for the first time in years.

My whole body tensed as I spent what felt like a lifetime waiting for the door to swing open.

When it did our eyes met immediately. His were green like mine, but darker. I noticed the stubble on his chin and how short his hair was now. He might as well of been bald.

"Hello, sorry to bother you. We are looking for Mr Green?" Miles recited what he'd said at every house, before looking between us in realisation.

My dad's mouth tipped open as he looked at me, gobsmacked.

I noticed the way his eyes brightened and his breathing pulled in suddenly, for so long that I almost worried he'd forgotten how to. His hands clasped, unclasped. He let out a long sigh.

"Kirsten ...?" He said my name like it was foreign, as if his mouth wasn't used to the shape of the word.

My chest tightened at the sound of his voice, one thousand memories suddenly flooding back. The sound of his footsteps when he came home from work, his laugher dancing with Mums on movie nights before they kissed each other goodnight. The times he'd used to come home on Sunday's with a brand new book in his hands and give it to me.

I remembered what he used to say when he passed it to me, the biggest smile plastered on my face. "Never stop pretending princess."

I couldn't stop the sobs as they overtook me, racking my chest and causing me to fall in on myself. I felt Miles tense immediately by my side, going to reach out before deciding against it. This was a stupid idea. How could I imagine this would go any way but south?

My mothers voice rang through my mind, unwelcome. "Don't expect it to be the fairytale reunion your imagining."

I don't think her words will ever leave me. She has a way with them. But then again, most people do.

Every breath was painful and my eyes stung, throat raw. The tears barely had the chance to dry on my cheeks before more fell down, over and over again until I lost grasp on the time that had passed. I didn't know what to do. Was I supposed to feel happy? Angry? Should I hug him and tell him how much I've missed him, or do I resent him from walking out on me for a woman who wasn't Mum?