Nostalgia That Isn't Mine

We all make choices

Even when we preach, "I just didn't have a choice"

So maybe it was my fault we ended up there that night.

When we sat on that park bench

The drag of my cigarette took me back

To a night, In 1984

When I imagine they were foolishly in love

It's a long shot

But it could've been their spot

That school, That love, I did not care

so close I could almost feel his arms around her

The choices they made

I feel the weight

Of a nostalgia that isn't mine

Burdened to this day by the choices made

In that moment, their love was not enough

The word "suicide" on his tongue

Death on his mind

I hate that I have the feeling of the tightness in his chest

The desire to fall out of a car

But I can't help but wonder if the laughter of my children would stop me

He thought he was doing me a favor, He thought he was helping

By leaving those many years ago.

Although I still cry myself to sleep sometimes

He was right, He helped

I am always reminded

That the day he left is the day he chose to make her the strongest women,

And me the strongest offspring.

So I wipe the tears off my own face, And whisper "thank you"