I remember it. I remember it well. Back when I still had little to none of the sense I have now. I was a fool, and I thought I was doing justice. A small part of me still hurts to go back. Back to the beautiful colors and the wondrous possibilities it held; though I now know none of them are real.
Perhaps I can go back to it, when I have learned to control myself better. They ripped me away from it and taught me what it meant to truly be anything worth bolstering. They have my eternal gratitude for that, and I know there is no way I can ever repay them. But here I am now, thinking that I may be losing this battle within myself, and wondering what I should do next. It feels just like it has a hundred times over.
When I do finally return to it, I hope that I can just silently smile, and maybe even cry a little, at how fortunate I am to remain who I am today. Standing in front of the same stone wall, and feeling the same feeling of awe that I felt so long ago.
Perhaps I can go back to it, when I have learned to control myself better.
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