Every once in a while it's nice to go back in time; maybe read an old book, revisit a special place, or see an old friend. Whatever it is, nostalgia kicks in and I'm left wondering why I ever let the book or the place or the person slip out of my grasp. Then, after I see or experience or read, I remember. All the bad things that sent shivers down my spine return in a flood of unpleasant memories.
If I could choose a superpower, I'd pick the ability to fix any problem I wanted to. I hate the idea that the world is not perfect and that things don't always go the way you want them to. I tend to place all the blame on myself when things go wrong, and then I try to fix it. Or at least I want to.
What good does that do? Old friends are old friends for a reason. They had their time, it was great, but hanging on only makes life more complicated and harder to bear.
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