I always knew your biggest pet peeve was not being taken seriously, but here I am today mocking you. But if I say your hair is a mess, I really mean it looks unbelievably adorable when it curls up like that, just so.

And I know you could never be my chauffer, I know that now, and it isn't because we both don't even have our licenses yet. I'm simply coming to terms with the fact that I live inside of a bubble, underground, a million kilometers below sea level. And you are a shape shifter, only able to transform and transcend into creatures with wings. Maybe they don't all have wings necessarily, but wings could be a symbol for freedom, and they most certainly have that ability.

So one day you are a falcon. The next you are in outer space, being a creature that isn't even discovered by man yet. No matter what, you're still free. And I am still imprisoned.

You would think being inside this cell would teach me that no, you do not care what I think about your hair curling up at the ends, just so. And that yes, you are way too high above the clouds for an underground lady like myself. But I just never learn.

Perhaps the only way I will ever learn is when I find a new shape shifter. One who is not limited to beings of the sky, but one who can morph into anything. Maybe even a petite, rusty old key that can unlock me. And set me free.

And maybe, just maybe, that new shape shifter won't even have curly hair.

P.S. Please come soon.