reaching into the depths of love stained pages and pulling out the most familiar character is my way of reinforcing my sense of self 

 

i am the clueless tooth-fairy in training who is terrible with directions because i got lost walking to my friend's house by myself for the first time

(i was 7 and she lived in a different neighborhood but all i really had to do was keep walking straight and i would get there eventually)

i am the know-it-all quest partner who loves to show off and build upon her own hubris because that one time i was in a group project and when i was not there no one got any work done 

(instead of being annoyed i was proud that i was a catalyst that i was useful that things didn't happen without my input that i was important to an effort no matter how frivilous the project and no matter how behind we got because of the insolence of my group members all i could think was that i was needed and that was better than anything)

i am the frumpy bookworm who spoils all the fun when her reckless friends attempt to do something that causes her anxiety because i am the one that reminds everyone about deadlines and appointments and the dangers of attempting stupid things 

(that one time we ran off campus during lunch to a food place that took too long and i almost cried after we sprinted a mile back to school seconds before the bell would ring because i could not be late that bullet did not even make my long list of "things that are OK sometimes" and now i can never be in the car facing a call time   without pointing to the clock every two minutes) 

i am the upper middle class well-adjusted kid who feels guilty about wanting to die because nothing should be bothering me even though school is hard and sometimes it just feels like nothing is worth it anymore and the things i find happiness in are just aimless activities and it's all just a chemical imbalance in my brain anyway because sometimes i feel immense pressures in my chest and my mind feels like it is on fire but my body is numb

(the day i went to rehearsal feeling like i was going to pass out from everything pulsing inside of me and the only way i could feel better was to hyperventlitate on the gross, cold bathroom floor and cry and cry and cry and until all of the bad feelings had exited through my eyes and absorbed into linolium under me waiting for its next victim until i could breathe again until i could push that heavy door open and continue on with my job as stage manager and convince everyone it was all ok)  

but at the end of the book

the tooth-fairy finds her way 

and succeeds in overcoming a flaw so she can pursue her dream career

 

and the know-it-all saves the day

while learning humility

and the frumpy book worm 

 

and the well-adjusted kid finds that there is a light at the end of the tunnel

and life is worth it when you find the person you are truly meant to be 

and 

i learn all of these things with them 

i reach inside of myself and place the characters back into the love stained pages and close my book, trapping their entirety within the covers

(knowing their essence is within me because even though i am all of them it is not all i am)