Diário de Bordo

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There is something wonderfully sad and dramatic about Peter Pan's story.

We have Wendy, the girl who doesn't want to grow up but knows someday she will since she was two.
She's a thinker, she's conscious. Wants to believe in Peter but is kind of skeptical about his existance, because it's a mistery and it gets hard for her to believe that he is real, not just something she dreamt, not just imagination.

And then we have Peter. The boy who never grew up. The physical existence of joy and youth, a beautiful restless soul who believes in faries and talks to mermaids, fights pirates and knows how to fly. He lives for adventure and refuses to create emotional connections because he thinks it's far better to avoid hurt "by never having loved than to love and lose love".

You are my Peter and I am your Wendy.

You made me feel like an eternal child. You taught me how to fly and I believed in you, in us, despite my skeptical consiousness that we could never be something real. But when we said goodbye, something tragic happened: like when Wendy left Neverland.

And just like Wendy started to grow up, our hearts started to grow apart. And just like Peter forgot about Wendy, you forgot about me. And now I'm starting to forget about you, just like Wendy ended up forgeting about Peter, because it's getting harder and harder for me to believe that what we had was, indeed, real. Everything seems very remote and misty and I'm starting to question if we weren't just something that I made up in my mind. And the sad part is: one day, when Peter remembers Wendy and comes back for her, it's too late. She's a grown up and forgot how to fly. And the same thing is happening to us.


You are my Peter and I am your Wendy. 
And the two of us can make the fairytale look like quite a tragedy.