Sometimes, when he's lying awake at night after one too many sweets, Sealand wonders what it would be like to live a human life. He thinks, that maybe by some cruel accident he ended up as a nation, when really, he should have been born a boy. A human boy. He's aware of the possibility his nation status may never be recognised, and the thought makes him uneasy. Validation is something even adults struggle with, and he's seen it first hand in the insecure ways of the great nations.
England raises his voice out of habit, supposedly, in an attempt to deflect anything he doesn't want to hear; be it a very French insult, or maybe a harsh truth. Sealand wonders why? What is he so afraid of? Surely such an repetitious nation would have developed a thicker skin by now. He wonders what happened to England to have him turn out the way he did - Mr Grumpy and opposed to admit to being happy, much less letting any one else revel in it. History books only tell so much, even though he probably has the most written about him.
He wonders about other nations too.
China will turn away from anything uncomfortable, sometimes deserting a conversation or meeting if he's unable to control it, playing on the defence. Once he's made his mind up, it's unlikely his beliefs will change. Sealand wonders if this is part of the reason his country has existed so long, how he survived. Sealand wonders if he's happy with this. Surely he must change his mind sometimes, isn't it a struggle to push forward knowing full well it's not what you really want. Sealand could imagine if China was a person, he'd be a strong one, an entrepreneur maybe, a salesperson - professions in which stubbornness (though he guesses in China's case it could be referred to as selflessness) and a baseless, unwavering confidence is needed.
He can't imagine England would make a good chef though. China would, certainly by skill, but Sealand would hate to be with in a mile of that kitchen with his developing eardrums.
He thinks some more. France is fuelled by people and good living, but Sealand thinks that can be a double edged sword. The things, persons, you enjoy (or better yet, 'indulge in') can quite easily be the thing to wipe away the smile on your face and spring in your step, as much as they can be the perpetrators of the aforementioned. Sealand thinks France would be very happy as a human, his emotions are very much in tune with people which in his eyes earns him the right to gloat about being 'a expert on love'. Sealand is sure he's seen a lot of it in his long past. He's also certain that loosing your grip on said love, due to the nations curse of time and terror, must be difficult. After a couple of times, you'd begin to question if you had really loved at all. Sealand worries about this, for France's sake. If France wasn't on top form, then god knows how dysfunctional England would become, with no motivation, no rival, without this familiar bond. Sealand wouldn't want to be around to see that mess, that 'shitshow' (a word he learnt curtesy of one of England's man paddies). He's been meaning to talk to Gilbert about it for a while.
After a while, when he has thought about many of the nations, from those who are friendly to him to those who couldn't be further from him and any more larger than him if they tried, he begins to realise that things are already seeming to come undone. England is abandoning his familiar relationships but not entirely as his fear of being completely alone overrules his fear of being abandoned. He's chosen to abandon but not desert entirely, the nations closest to him, as though that's the safest, sensible option.
America has chosen to make him self great again - a clear indication he wasn't feeling all that great in the first place, though he'd never openly admit it. Everything's so wish wash with him, afraid to upset by doing something and afraid to upset by doing nothing. He lets him self be lead from one extreme to the other. It must be tiring, Sealand notes. He finds America to be a nice guy, personality wise. He finds it hard to overlook some of the other sides to him though. Sealand thinks nations like America, could benefit from being human for a while. A little while to figure out what it is they actually believe. He understands it's not easy with over three-hundred million people though.
Sealand thinks he could benefit from being human for a while. That everyone could. A chance to heal and explore battered, defensive, worn out old souls. And a chance to evaluate what relationships, what friendships, which alliances, would benefit them and their human sides.
Unstable nations do bad things at bad times, motivated by bad, irrational reasons. The consequences of their actions are held against them for as long as they're remembered. It's a vicious cycle of self sabotage.
Sealand thinks this is all crap, to be honest.
The name Peter has a nice ring to it though, doesn't it? Like Peter Pan, he'll swoop in and save all these nations from their own demise, by... by...! Nothing. He can't do anything. Nothing except long for what they can't have. Maybe pray on it, waste a wish on it.
Except maybe the wish isn't wasted after all.