There’s a nostalgic feeling; that childhood giggly high of jumping in rain puddles, and building blanket forts. Why can’t that rhapsodic delight stay?
Where has that feeling of fullness gone?
Where can I find that feeling again? That feeling of being at the center of a perfect universe. That feeling of staying up late with my best buddy. Where can I buy that?
Nobody can buy that.
I know where to seek it, but it always rips my heart out when I get too close. It’s an addiction. I don’t know what’s worse, one quick knockout punch, or the slow, dull, ache of a wound that just won’t heal.
****, it hurts.