Dear Peter Pan,
I'm placing a copy of this letter in my window, like I used to do when I was much younger. Do you remember my letters? Did somebody read them to you, or did you finally up and learn to read them for yourself? I used to leave them between the screen and the glass almost every night. I left you candy bars, my first lost tooth, ribbons, poster paint, and other trinkets and random things I found. I always wanted you to remember who I was. Because in my mind, I was the very first lost girl, and you were my very best friend through the hardest times. When my childish mind needed somewhere to hide, Neverland was within my reach.
When my mom and dad got a divorce I thought the world was ending. I didn't know what to do or where to turn. I was too young then to fully understand or appreciate my religion, so I couldn't turn to the Bible quite yet. No, I found you. Amongst the books and movies piled up in my room at my grandparent's house; Peter Pan was waiting. You were waiting. You waited there with the promise of a never-ending childhood. Days full of adventure and laughter. So many things I know have come from you.
My favorite color is green. The color of summer, trees, innocence, adventure, and happiness. Green was your color, Peter; and now it is mine.
I read every book, every series, or comic related to you. I memorized movie after movie, and sang the songs from the musical. I know everything there is to know about Peter Pan, the great and marvelous Peter Pan. The boy who would never grow up. "The little bird that has hatched out of the egg."
In a lot of ways, I envy you. Remember when I was only six? Remember when I would take my green shirt and run around the yard and build forts in the gazebo behind my grandparent's house? My grandmother even let me play in her old Wendy-house (she called it a dollhouse, but I knew what it really was and what its origins were). I was you, Peter. I always wanted to stay young and revel in my childhood. No pirate could make me grow up. No adult could tempt me into giving up my youthfulness.
I waited night after night for you to take me away to Never-Neverland where I could be a child and play with you forever on those endless golden beaches. We could climb trees and spit on adulthood. We could sing and cavort and pretend that there was no life outside of that paradise. But I didn't want to have to forget my life here, and maybe that's why you never came. I wasn't willing to be innocent forever. I wanted what every girl eventually wants, just like Wendy before me.
Like every girl, my heart changed and my body changed too. My hair grew out, I bought makeup and my notebooks were no longer filled with stories and sketches of your world or the Home Underground. They began to clutter with poems, love notes, and doodles of hearts. I began to lose my innocent ways. People hurt me, and I hurt other people. I started to grow up. I was becoming that monster which I had hated so.
Peter, in six days I am going to be sixteen years old. Do you know what that means? I can never come to Neverland with you. And I am crying as I write this, as I sit here. Because when Sunday comes and I turn sixteen years old...I'll be ready for it. I have a boyfriend now, Peter. I gave him a thimble. The thimble I promised you so many years ago, but you never came for it. Want to know what's funny? My boyfriend's middle name is Peter. I guess, in a way, that I did give my thimble to you.
I promise that I will never forget you. My nickname will always be Petey and my friends will always make fun of my childishness. You're the reason I'm in theater, that I dance, that I dress like a tomboy sometimes. Peter Pan, you are my childhood. I will miss you, and I will love you till the end of time.
The Very First Lost Girl
Teague