Conform
I have heard that word before – conform – and I have always hated it. I did not want to conform to our world. Why would anyone want to be like the dreadfully shallow girls here? I was Queen Susan of Narnia, above such petty things. I was. Now I am nobody; just Susan Pevensie. I am not Queen. I am not Narnian. I am not even Gentle. Aslan has rejected me from His world, and I can never go back. Now, if I don't conform to this world, I will be left living empty memories for the rest of my life, like my siblings. They don't understand that living in the past will only hurt their future. Conforming, hard though it may be, is the best option available. I have tried to tell them, but they insist that Aslan has not forgotten them, that He will make Himself known. They refuse to live in the present, preferring rather to stay in the past; to stay in the time when they were Somebody instead of a faceless nobody. I understand their reasoning, but it is not logical to spend your whole life waiting for the past to happen again. I choose to conform, to change, to assimilate myself into the present. They will not join me. I am alone in my conformity. I am still hoping that one day they will come to their senses and join the present. I am still hoping.