ORIGIN: The Brush gave us a teddy bear getting in between a kiss. But recycling is important, and most stories go on after The End anyway.
The kingdom wasn’t mine, and I never learned to ride a horse. I gave my first kiss in exchange for a teddy bear. I was tired of plucking daisy petals. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No. All I wanted was a hug. No questions asked. And you know what? If a cat graciously offered to lend me one of its lives, I would unequivocally refuse the chance for a do-over. Because I believe with all my heart that children shouldn’t grow up worrying about their parents’ mood.
My so-called first kiss was a light thing on the cheek. I would say that there was no love lost, but the dictionary defines it as dislike, and what I am trying to say is that it didn’t make a difference to me. I wanted a teddy bear, and I didn’t go broke. The end.
My teddy bear didn’t have button eyes. Do you know that thing that’s left when all the petals of a daisy have been plucked? No more yeses. No more noes. Somebody told me that my teddy bear’s eyes looked just like that. Apparently, it’s called helplessness. That person said that my teddy bear was at my mercy, and that’s why I should try my best to be a good girl.
Did you know that roses used to have only five petals? Neither did I. But senses come in fives too, and that’s the kind of love I want. My teddy bear gives the best hugs, and one day I will make a rose bloom on somebody’s cheek. I will be his world. His five senses will be tuned in to me, and the rest of the universe will be nothing more than static on tv.
I was told not to get underfoot, and my foolish, afraid-of-the-pain heart interpreted those words in the best light possible. Some girls dance on their father’s feet, and I wanted to believe that’s what he was promising me. I asked for a teddy bear because I wanted to practice in my room. I wouldn’t have hurt him for the world. But maybe that’s what I should have done. Maybe I should have opened the door and picked a bunch of wildflowers to color my world anew and forget he was ever part of it.
If a fish brought me a flower, I wouldn’t ask where he got it from. I would just be quick to trample it. There was a time when my heart was overgrown with wildflowers. I knew love, but once is enough, thank you very much. There’s a reason I cried my share of the ocean and salted my heart. Memories should know better than to darken my door.
I like fish. Their pointy little teeth. I don’t mind letting them try, I actually want someone to take a chunk out of my heart. I don’t have anything against flowers, it’s just that I prefer negative space, and a flower would never share my edges. Love should leave a mark, it should be missed when it’s gone. That’s something water will never understand. Every three seconds fish are told that they aren’t loved. The first heartbreak is always the worst, it becomes your driving force. And I want someone as dedicated to love as I am.
I wish I could blame Gravity for neglecting me, but it’s not her fault I didn’t grow up with both feet on the ground. Some children wish upon the stars, but I was tired of being ignored. I read in a book that people used to eat the hearts of their enemies, and I thought I would have better luck going that route. I ate fish every day, hoping to gain their 3 second memory. I wanted to pluck my pain like a flower and forget it ever existed. And if worse came to worst, and it bloomed right back, at least I would have a built-in escape. It took me a while to get acquainted with real life.
Roses have thorns. They look nothing alike, but I can’t help it if they make me think of fishbones. It’s like having something stuck in my throat. I’ve run out of tears, but the need to cry is still there, making its presence known. If heartbreak is the name of the sea, I should have nipped that river in the bud. I wish I had never known love.
I’ve never pretended to be a good person. When I cry, that river of tears runs into my mouth, leaving salt all over my lips. I believe that last kisses should bring closure. Love deserves nothing less. They should salt the heart and draw its curtains for good. The show must go on? Don’t make me laugh. Nobody wants to be replaced.
Somebody once patted me on the head. I had just woken from a dream, my lips were still paralyzed in a goodbye kiss, and I took it as a compliment. Teddy bears are all well and good, but sooner or later little girls have to sharpen their teeth and face reality. I thought he was complimenting me on not being a late bloomer, but he was just combing my bed hair. If it had been up to him, I would still be his little girl.
Once upon a time there was a well-mannered princess whose hair was soft like down. Dreams flocked to her every night and were loath to leave at dawn, so much so that they changed their migration route, and only flew from her dreams to her memories and back forevermore. When I was young, I used to fluff my pillow and pucker my lips. I was ready to kiss my dreams hello and make them feel welcome. I even gave up my teddy bear because I heard that bears sometimes eat birds, and I didn’t want to scare them off, but my nights have remained dreamless to this day. The only thing I haven’t tried is asking my father not to wish me sweet dreams anymore. Birdlime is sweet and maybe my dreams think that it’s a trap. But I would hate to hurt my father’s feelings.
Dreaming is easy, all you have to do is close your eyes. Holding on to your dream come morning is another thing altogether. My teddy bear couldn’t lend me a hand. My father should have patted me on the head. He should have told me that I could do it and he believed in me, before that bird flew away.
Encouragement? What’s that? The closest my father ever came to patting me on the head was the one time I was underfoot and he lost his balance. I’ve gotten more heartfelt goodnight kisses from my teddy bear, and that’s saying something, because I have never been fond of inanimate objects. It’s the lack of pulse, you see. I need to be coaxed. It’s not that I am shy, it’s just that I don’t care for rejection. But sometimes even an echo of my own heartbeat was better than what my father gave me, which was nothing at all.
If I had to choose between a pat on the head and a goodnight kiss, I would close my eyes and get ready to dream the night away, like the good self-centered child that I am. There was a time when my life revolved around making my father proud of me. I never cared about the growth chart on the door frame. The first time my father smiled at me I was over the moon, and that’s where I recorded my height. Till the day my best wasn’t good enough, and he still patted me on the head. His smile remained where it had always been, but something in me fell to its death, and I don’t care for a repeat.
She: Would you like a kiss?
He: Truth be told, I would rather have your teddy bear.
She: This grumpy, old thing? It’s used to the shape of my hugs and the taste of my tears. I’m afraid it won’t be able to accommodate you. My kiss, on the other hand, will go out of its way to welcome you.
He: Thank you, but my burden is not yours to bear. I would never cry into your chest. I read somewhere that fur traps dead air, and your teddy bear seems like it would make a good coffin for all that’s slowly but surely dying inside me.
Fish: This flower is for you.
She: …
Fish: I made it out of the scales closest to my heart and the luminescent fin ray of an anglerfish. Don’t you like it?
She: …
Fish: Maybe you have a different definition of love. I like the idea of walking hand in hand with someone. But I’m a fish. And I thought symbiosis would be the next best thing.
She: Daddy, I know I am a dreamer, but there are no bed bugs in my hair.
He: Are you sure?
She: Yes. Bed bugs may smell like rotten berries, but please don’t be afraid to wish me sweet dreams. You gave me this teddy bear for a reason.
He: I did?
She: You did. Don’t you remember that bears like to eat berries? I hollowed its leg as soon as you gave it to me, and it has yet to let me down. All my dreams are gone before they have a chance to rot. So, just kiss me goodnight and leave my hair alone.
He: Why do you always close your eyes when you kiss me?
She: Because I hate dictionaries and I would like to blot out all the definitions I have had the misfortune to read.
He: How does that pertain to me?
She: You have the same eyes as my teddy bear. It has never let me down and I fell in love with you because of that resemblance.
He: I don’t understand. Isn’t that all the more reason to look into my eyes?
She: Never read the definition of beady eyes, my love. One broken heart is more than enough between the two of us.
Fish: Lovers live in a world of their own, but I am used to being ignored.
She: …
Fish: Three’s a crowd. Maybe that is why fish like me have a 3 second memory.
She: …
Fish: Are you aware that your silence comes in threes? Maybe that is why people grow apart. Kisses on the cheek might sound like popped bubbles, but there’s only so much you can do.
She: …
Fish: Here’s a flower for your love’s grave.
She: Daddy, does my hair look like a bird’s nest?
He: Not quite yet.
She: Hurry up! I don’t want my dream to roost somewhere else. I haven’t finished coloring it yet. I need more nights. One, two, three… how long does it take for a teddy bear to grow well-worn?
He: A whole childhood?
She: I haven’t learned to count that high! Daddy, do you think my dream will stay true to me that long?
He: You could always learn to whistle, baby girl.
She: It’s just a teddy bear, it doesn’t bite.
He: That’s not what I am afraid of.
She: Don’t you love me?
He: I do.
She: Then look into those headlights, my dear. I want our first kiss to go on forever.
Fish: Some fish are born to clean shark teeth.
She: …
Fish: I know you couldn’t care less. But the sooner I say my piece, the sooner I’ll swim along.
She: …
Fish: Heartbreak turns petals into hungry little fish. It’s a survival instinct. They chew on memories and in three seconds everything is gone. The flower is ready to bloom again.
She: …
Fish: That’s all I wanted to say. Goodbye.
She: Daddy, I have finally made up my mind. Winter will always have a place in my heart.
He: May I ask why?
She: You may. It’s because chapped lips remind me of a cocoon, and every time you kiss me on the forehead it feels like a dream has just broken out of it.
He: Should I be looking for moths in your hair, baby girl?
She: Don’t be silly, daddy. I am not a teddy bear.
He: What’s the difference?
She: Moths eat teddy bears because their stuffing is white, and everybody loves stargazing. But I am full of red goo. Hearts bleed for little girls like me, and nobody wants a repeat of the last deluge.
He: Are you sure this is how you want to kiss me?
She: I don’t see anything wrong with it. My father warned me of the bumpy road ahead. I think that is why he taught me to dance on his feet.
He: Don’t take me wrong, I would walk through fire for you.
She: But…
He: It’s your life. Are you sure you want me to bear the brunt of it?
She: Why not? My teddy bear is stuck in the past. In those days when all I saw was the love others had for me, and I am willing to give it to you. Don’t you want to see my love for you?
Fish: I used to wonder why red roses symbolize love when they are all thorns. Then I gave my heart away, and all my little teeth followed in its wake.
She: …
Fish: Unlike you, I was the one who said I love you with a rose, the toothless thing that gave somebody else the power to hurt me.
She: …
Fish: But what’s done is done. I just hope my teeth grow back someday and I get a chance to feed on somebody else’s heart too.
She: Daddy, you aren’t doing it right. That’s not how you should pat me on the head.
He: Did it hurt?
She: Not at all. That’s the problem. My skull is still round, but I need a flat surface to paint my dream.
He: Why don’t you borrow your teddy bear’s back?
She: I can’t. Have you never seen a bear trap, Daddy? If I didn’t hug my teddy bear tightly every night, my heart would follow my dream and be gone when I woke up.
He: You could always paint an ugly dream.
She: Wrong again. Daddy, you aren’t even trying. That would be like kissing someone I don’t love.
He: What should I have said?
She: That you will help me make this world a better place.
He: This teddy bear is in the way.
She: I don’t think so. Close your eyes and kiss me.
He: But you won’t fit in my arms.
She: That’s the point.
He: Don’t you want to forget where I end and you begin? Shouldn’t our hearts beat as one?
She: Don’t be silly. Bears sleep to forget winter exists. When the world around them is bleak, bears are covered in a beautiful dream. And that is what I want to kiss.
Fish: I’ve heard that there are more fish in the sea, but you were my one and only sun. My love for you is burned into my mind, way past the 3 seconds that keep everyone else meaningless and forever at bay.
She: …
Fish: But I won’t make the same mistake the next time around. Night-blooming flowers have it right. I will have my choice of faraway stars, and who knows, maybe I will even write a constellation of my own in stone.
She: Daddy.
He: Yes, baby girl?
She: I’m giving up my teddy bear after tonight.
He: What’s the rush? You still haven’t reached a dead end on the door frame.
She: If clothes don’t make the man, height shouldn’t make the child. This will be our last goodnight kiss.
He: Are you sure, baby girl?
She: I’m sure. I’m sorry, Daddy, but I don’t want to follow in your footsteps. I want my dreams and me to part on good terms, before I end up living my life in denial.