Run run run, as fast as you can...

I'm not big on nostalgia. I can joke around about various things in my past, but long realized I would never be one of those people who look back with a wistful glimmer in their eye and say, "Weren't those the days?"

I never had a terrible time in grade school or high school, but things were less-than-rosy enough for me to never wax sentimental. I'm more of a things-are-fun-right-now, screw looking back. I haven't been back to my hometown since my parents moved six or so years ago.

Last night had my usual mode of bizarre, jumbled dream... and realized that there are certain streets and locations I unconsciously return to from my childhood.

The vacant treed lot beside the high school. The street leading up to my grade school best friend's house (amusingly, last night I explained to someone in my subconscious state why I kept returning to this location -- and it was a surprisingly satisfying conclusion). My parent's basement. Glasgow Street. The hill behind the ice rink.

You can't go home again. You can't even try to ignore it. Because somewhere in your mind, it's still there.

Therapy soon, I think.

:)