Journal by SK
When I was little, my father used to call me his 'shield-maiden'. He still tells me now how my eyes would light up and I would grin with all my teeth. Because boys could be knights, but I could be the stars, fiery and bright, unbridled. I could climb trees, bend elements, turn back time. I would swing back and forth for hours on my old swing-set, higher and higher until I mustered the strength to jump. That was how I first learned how to fly. On the swings, and then clutching my wagon going down a hill with nothing to steer with, and then with my bike and the stars, when no one else was on the road and it was just me and the wind. I knew I could fly because no one told me I couldn't. But now, I don't know if I remember. How to let the wind sweep me off my feet. No. Now I hold on too much to the earth. I am tethered. And part of me wants to be free but I can't cut off my leg. Because then, if I fly away, I'm afraid I won't remember how to land.