sometimes i miss who i used to be. there was a me and whatever that meant, it was. there were all sorts of them. everywhere and nowhere. inside and outside myself. so many spaces in time, so much life.

where would i be the next day? remorseful? sorry? satisfied? proud? happy? comfortable? or in hiding. little sanctuary areas in different homes and states. a bench here, a tree there, a corner somewhere else. and people. those who represented safety and care. when they're gone, there are less places to hide.

when i left, the familiar couldn't always follow. people and places are still where they were. and i'm gone. more building blocks, miles and minutes. more posessions and people, accomplishments and things undone. life looks different and sometimes alarmingly so. small people are big people, young people are old people, some hardly recognizable as the ones i knew before.

a fully working memory holds many scenes, feelings and atmospheres. rich-smelling kitchens, aches both heart and body, lonely nights, fun parties, quiet moments, hand-holding, lace dresses, garden corners, first steps and first kisses, neighborhoods, cars, schools and classes, something that was or felt totally normal that has gone away and won't come back. even a decade will leave and take it's fashions and familiarity with it.

and sometimes i'm left sitting, thinking, and wishing to just have a small portion of it all back. some me i left behind. if only for awhile.