I'm always on the outside, my nose pressed up against the glass.
You see, when I was kid, as much I wanted to be one of the guys in the Games Workshop, I didn't have the brains to fully understand the games, nor the money for the beautiful, beautiful statues. Each one holding so much promise, so much adventure.
When I was a teen I wanted anything but. I wanted to be cool, I wanted girls to like me. In my heart I was still looking in, yearning for the tiny pots of paint and the Space Marines. But I was weak. I conformed.
Those few, those happy, happy few who were brave enough to endure the years of jokes and jibes have now been able to embrace their hobby. You can see them smiling, laughing, plotting. This isn't just a shop, it's a place where people go to build worlds, make war, create legends. You never see someone pop in and out, they stay, they chat. The older ones passing on their war stories to the next generation.
Sure, I could join them now. Time and money are still tight, but if I really went for it, I could probably lose myself in these incredible worlds of imagination and fantasy.
I don't deserve it though.
This is the one that got away, the one I'll never be able to fully experience. I'll just stay where I am, looking in the window, my nose pressed against the glass. read more