Down the memory lane

Childhood memories. Down the memory lane there’s a house on the street. And a person sitting on the side of the road. I’m approaching slowly, closer and closer, and while I pass the girl, I look at her, she looks me straight in the eye and I wake up breathless, as I just saw myself.

Returning to see a childhood home is so emotional. Vast majority of people who make a trip to see a former home select a place they lived in during their primary school years (around 5 to 12 years old). I only have one place to go to. My old house is part of my personal identity, with its spiritual connection and presence from the war times, and from the recent times. Meandering the past is psychologically necessary to capture it for self-preservation, and for not wanting to let go, for whatever reason.