It’s funny I should run across this prompt, because I have been thinking of this topic quite a bit lately. At least in the last few months. If I could turn back those rusty hands of time and visit any part of my life it would be my childhood for sure. Just my childhood in general. Up until my teenage years. This topic has been thrust into my mind quite a bit because I went home over Christmas and was tortured internally with the realization that these people are strangers. Or perhaps I am the stranger. It made me desperately long for the days when it felt like home. Those days ended with my childhood. I had a magical childhood filled with love and happiness. At least that’s how I perceived it. Of course, my innocence and naivety blocked out the wrong doings that were going on at the time. But that’s what’s so beautiful about being a child. For the most part, you’re unaware of the evil that can be in this world. You only see the good. I adored my family. They were my everything. Everyday was filled with wonder. Everyday there was so much to do, so much to live for. I was carefree, like most children-if you were so lucky. But most importantly, I felt like I belonged. Sometimes when I’m down, thoughts of my childhood come back to me and how I wish times could be like that again. I wish I could have found a way to fly off to Neverland and stay there, before I turned into this angry, pessimistic shell of an adult. Although deep inside, I don’t think I ever grew out of that child’s soul. She’s still in there. Somewhere.
Here’s to the childhood homes we left long ago:
There’s no place like home. You can always go back.
They lied to me then and they’ll lie to me yet.
I went away on this Rip Van Winkle sleep,
When I awoke I thought I can always go back and see.
It will stay the same, I can go home and feel loved.
My parents, my sisters, it will be just like it was.
But I did go back, once a year or more.
And each time I went it was not like before.
Something was different, this world is so strange.
Why can’t I feel the happiness and safety I crave?
It’s all so different. It will never be the same.
I thought I could go to Oz and return home again.
But there’s no place like home, you can’t always go back.
They’ll lie to you then and they’ll lie to you yet.
Once you leave, don’t expect it to stay.
That home that you love will never be the same.
You know, I was thinking of writing something a little lighter since today is April Fool’s, but then I had to run across this topic and it got my melancholy self to thinking. Damn you, Daily Prompt, damn you.