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Exercise #8: I Wish
I wish I could roll back time and start again. I would pay any price to have it be 1985. Any price. When I think about my life these days, sometimes I am reminded of the last act of Thornton Wilder's "Our Town" where the girl is dead and asks the Stage Manager to go back and visit one day of her life. It's not her life anymore, it's only memory, and she tries to tell herself all the things she came to know in her short time on Earth, but she cannot. She can't talk to her mother, who sits beside her in the graveyard, except together as ghosts. She longs to be with her husband, the boy she loved so much when they were young, and cannot ease his pain as he stands by her graveside, his life shattered.
I am only a ghost in my own life. I am so far outside this world and everything that's in it that I feel I might as well be deep in the ground. What I was, what I thought, what I felt, these things are untouchable to me now and I have not found a way to reconnect. Oh, to wind that clock back. How cruel that we cannot, for surely we would all undo things, amend the errors, soothe the ephemeral fears, heal the broken hearts with the knowledge of what will be, save ourselves.
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