The One in Which I Get My Voice Back

I’ve been Ebaying; I just bid on this:

Little Mermaid statue

And as soon as she arrives, I’m going to break her into several pieces so that I can superglue her back together.

Please don’t worry; I have not suffered a stroke. I simply need a daily object lesson.

You see, when I was around five years old, my family went to Disney World. Around that time (and ever since), I was obsessed with Ariel. So when my parents gave me the opportunity to pick a souvenir, the choice was obvious. I will save the debate on the wisdom of buying a kindergartner a ceramic figurine for another time, but I’m sure you can figure out what happened over the next decade or so.

Poor Ariel had to be superglued together so many times that she started to resemble a frankenmermaid. A few of her fingers were lost forever, the seams in her fin were very visible, and she was slightly misaligned from a hasty glue job, but she had a place of pride on my shelf for over twenty years.

Scarred as she became, she was still my Ariel–the princess in her own right who has always reminded me to be my own glorious self.  So I kept her.  She came with me every time I moved, all the way to Yuma, where she mysteriously disappeared. I was sad at the time, but I haven’t thought about her for quite awhile… until tonight.

Tonight, I decided it was time to write again. And I just finished writing a long story about why I’ve been absent for so long. It was all about my own personal Prince Charming and how my fairy tale ended with me in pieces.

I’m sorry you missed it, really. It was clever, and kind of a tearjerker. But halfway through, I decided I needed to take back the narrative. I’m tired of thinking about how broken I’ve been. Shattered, really, into more pieces than I could ever pick up. I believe some parts of the original me have ground into dust and will never be reassembled.

It was sad, really. It was over a year’s worth of sad. But I’m done. Not with sadness, I’m sure, but with allowing myself to be ruined. That’s why God invented superglue. And Ariel–who, despite her countless superglue surgeries, remained her beautiful self.

I’ve been slowly trying to glue myself back together. It hasn’t been easy. Right now it’s downright hellish. Ursula the sea-witch has nothing on my own personal demons, I swear.

I’ll never be the same; I will always be scarred and slightly misaligned– but I will be whole again, someday. Get your dinglehoppers ready, world, because Ariel is on her way back to me, and she and I are making a comeback. It will be slow. It will be sticky. It may involve copious amounts of glue. But it will happen.

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