I wish I could go back to being afraid of the dark, when the covers provided refuge from the scary monsters waiting to pounce. Hovering — like gaping spectacles — breathing in and out to match my fear.
I wish I could go back to when ice cream felt like the victory of the day — as it painted my lips and gave me the satisfaction of more to come. Running up the stairs with loose coins — wedged in my palm — the door bell rings and I extend my arm with authority and wait to see the prize arriving before I blink.
I wish I could go back to the exertion of exams — the paperwork wooing my fingers as the pencil circles the answers with high demand and my mind extends to the hope of being rescued by impressive marks and the possibility of the future.
I wish I could go back to application forms and the quest for the journey that would alter my life if only SAT, TOEFL and the rest would yield to my output.
I wish I could go back to the acceptance letters and the joy of accomplishment. The simplicity of moments that amounted to so much — when that was enough.
I wish I could go back to when New York City was the only friend I needed. The blend of expectations and the accommodating present — towering over moving clouds that supplied the vision that was undisturbed and hibernating.
I wish I could go back to when sleeping in the dark was scary because my nightmares were still in-flight. En route to destinations unknown — with the bliss of too much time — not spent — re-routing.
I just wish I could go back…