Crying for Home (New)

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Oh, Mikey. You know I can’t ever come home again.

Oh my goodness. That made me cry. Not just that I can’t come back to you but that I think of you as to where home is.

Let me slip into a literary mode and allude to Thomas Wolfe’s stupid line about never being able to go home again. I say “stupid” because I don’t want to believe it.

I so want to come home. I just have no roads that lead there.

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UPDATE: I'm sorry this has been so slow in developing but the real world has been in the way and, I'm not ashamed to admit this, the memories I have to bring forth do not always inspire me to write. Instead, they make me want to play those old songs and wallow in the memories for too much time to admit. I do write, though, and there is much more coming soon -- filler for the notes and hints of events. Those words are coming.

I know it is hard to read a lot of disjointed notes and keep any kind of interest. The "meat" will find its way.

Let me add. I have written the last part. No, that is not really true. Jane wrote the last part but I have finally come to realize that note, that long, painful note is the only way for this all to end.