“I want always to be a boy, and have fun…”

Succinctly put, that is exactly how I feel. Despite what I may say or the plans I profess for my life, I find myself often going back to this principle. Is it out of fear or defense? Or perhaps immaturity and selfishness? I don’t really know. And maybe I don’t care.

“Why don't you call me when you grow up, wait a minute that will never happen so, why don't you just not call me...yeah”

Last Christmas, we went as a family to go see the new Peter Pan film that had just come out. I’ll admit that my vote was in the negation on the matter, but nonetheless it was a movie complete with popcorn and treats, compliments of my parents and I’m no fool. Well, I loved the movie. And all of a sudden I saw that the story of Peter Pan wasn’t about kids going to a far of place to fight pirates, when they should be in bed. It was about growing up, moving on to the future and leaving the past. It was about moving out of the nursery. It was about me.

“What in the hell's the matter with you? When will you stop acting like a child?”
“I am a child.”
“Grow up.”

They call it ‘Peter Pan Syndrome’ and when I say “they” I mean my mom. I’ve heard it used plenty of other places, but it’s a phrase made popular to me by my mother. It’s actually fairly self-explanatory. You don’t want to grow-up (i.e. be responsible, have a job, get married, provide for the needs of a family, etc.) you’d rather act like a boy; to play and have fun. Live and exist in a self-serving, carefree...(for lack of a better word) Neverland. And if this was a true disease, then I suppose I have terminal case. I like the fact that when I come home from work or school, the first (and often only) thing on my mind is “what do I want to do?” I can take a nap, play some video games, go to the store, go skateboard around the block, or just simply nothing at all. Yeah, I guess it’s a bit selfish. In fact I’ve heard it said that the truest and most sincere happiness is felt in the service of others. But I like being in charge of just me and being sure that my needs are met. Besides, I can always guarantee myself a fun time.

“Why do you have to spoil everything? We have fun, don't we? I taught you to fly and to fight. What more could there be?”
“There is so much more.”

But the more I think about it, the more I realize the root of my behavior: I’m scared. Not terrified like the scantily-clad blonde girl in a Friday the 13th movie. Maybe more like Al Pacino in Dog Day Afternoon, a bank robber surrounded by cops and locked in a stalemate (except there’s no gay guy needing money for a sex change operation in my scenario). Trying to stall and have a bit of fun; prolonging the inevitable. All the while the pressure to make a decision grows and swells. It’s as if I feel like the safest action is non-action. Not regression, but stemming progression. The future is uncertain, it could be good or it could be bad. But as long as I can maintain the present things can’t get any worse. The Status Quo. And yet I find moments where the status quo is somewhat lacking to grasp my attentions. I tire of fighting pirates or hunting Indians; video games lose there luster and naps feel like I’m waiting for something. Admittedly these moments are brief, but they force me to think, to ponder.

“Surely you must have felt love once for something... or someone.”
“Never. Even the sound of it offends me.”

Yeah it offends me too. But probably it’s because I’m not in love. When you’re not in love or don’t have a significant other, you become annoyed with the romances of others; most especially when they conflict with your fun and games. I have a roommate who just started dating this girl. He spends an inordinate amount of time with her. The other night he said that he was just going over to her place for an hour and he’d be back to play HALO. Nearly 5 hours later, I went to bed and he still wasn’t home. Not that I’m even jealous, I just can’t understand. I can’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to fight pirates with me, why anyone would leave me and Neverland. But maybe that’s what it takes to make you leave Neverland. You have to find love. You have to care about someone so much that being with them is fun, caring for them makes you happy. Peter Pan stayed in Neverland until he found the right girl. He didn’t leave Neverland, because it was “about time” or he “needed to,” Peter stayed in Neverland until he found his reason to leave.

You can’t leave Neverland out of obligation or you’ll never feel satisfied or happy. You only leave Neverland when you found somewhere better…someone better, your Wendy.

Oh... Peter's found himself a... Wendy. And Hook is all alone.

“...You say so, Peter, but I think it is your biggest pretend.”