There is a before and after. The divide that comes to show you nothing will ever be the same again. You can’t go back-–it’s impossible. It’s not even there anymore to go back to. It’s as if who you were is a legend now. You know, just something to talk about how you used to be. The trouble is that sometimes I wish my life was similar to the quality that it was then–do you know what I mean? I don’t actually want to be a teenager living with my parents again–I only wish for the horror in the middle to never have occurred. I do not know how to undo what’s been done to me. I am stuck. I am weary of trying.