Peter posed, eyes staring into the distance, body at ready to fly. He very much wanted to be noticed, but was trying very hard as to appear as though he wasn't.
"Peter?" Wendy had asked, "Is it far to Neverland?" She had said it as though she meant
far away, a great distance, but she really meant "Is it far away from being a grownup?"
And indeed it was, further than she had ever gone.
And as she sat in the tree, knees pulled tight to her chest, fingers wrapped around toes, watching the fairy lights glisten through the trees, she knew that is was indeed a great distance from being a grown up, greater than she had ever gone, greater than any other girl had gone, she knew that for sure. She smiled to herself, thinking it was such a great thing that she had gone all this way to be a girl/mother and watch over Peter and the lost boys.
But had she opened his mind, set aside new memories and brushed off the old, she would have found others. Other girl/mothers who loved Peter and cared for him. And she might
have been unhappy with him, asked why he had treated her so special, when she was only one of the many.
And poor Peter would have been confused. Because you see, he doesn't remember. He only loves and remembers each one as they are there.
That may sound cruel of him, but think no worse. It is how he stays a boy forever, by not remembering.
So every girl he has brought and loved (in his own special way, for he can not truly love like you and I do) has been his first and truest love.
And yet, in a way, Wendy really was special. For her, Peter loved, for just a moment. Thought, for just a moment, that maybe having a family would be nice.
For her, he almost came back.
But only almost.