The Only Left Turn That Matters is Who’s Left After You’ve Turned
And other lessons
Purple lights marooned on their own festering island of lamp pole, lumped bushes, and sidewalk concrete, sun settling to sleep in a jungle of elm trees crowding sandstone cabanas along Park Drive, ending where it began, the same turning arrow that, when reflected in the mirror, appears to be going the opposite direction. But. Isn’t.
“When time passes, it’s the people who knew you whom you want to see; they’re the ones you can talk to. When enough time passes, what’s it matter what they did to you?” — John Irving, The Cider House Rules
When you have history with someone, what’s it matter anymore? And time has a way of making that occur, doesn’t it? People get sick, people get humbled, people go through life, and we age, and come to the doorstep of death and our mortality, and what’s the rest of it matter anymore? We just want to not be alone for a moment.
I left so many people behind that I also left myself behind. Crumbs I broke off myself to make a trail and find my way home until I was nothing left.
All these memories and experiences and none of the people who knew them. Who will understand West Point? Who will understand the mud of Ranger School? Who will understand my marriage at 23? Who will…
