When I closed my eyes, I could go back there, and I did—I went back there often.
Just one teensy little problem with this mirage, just like a mirage, it’s not real, it’s fevered dreams, perhaps wishes of what could of been, what should of been, a happy childhood in a happy family, maybe the core missing pieces are worth more than the ones that were tangible…
But either way there’s a division in the road & no option other than to choose one way or the other, although for a child the choice itself may be immaterial, & just the actions & repercussions of others choices lead the way, very slowly but yet still surely, onward.
