It was weird going back to 301 Maple the other night. To think I spent almost 9 years there as a child, learning about life, love, and everything in between. I went there last winter after having a bad night, and it made me feel a little better knowing a place of my youth was nearby. I walked down streets that my school bus used to take me, and I walked down a dark, dreary road that I used to run through as a child because I was afraid of monsters lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to run out of breath so they could catch me.

When i returned this time, it wasn’t the same. The place I stared at wasn’t my home. It was just a house. My youth was no longer there, I couldn’t go there and recapture long lost emotions. The house doesn’t harbor anything for me.

I stared, sat in the driveway, and took one last look around maple street. My youth wasn’t there. It still lives in me. I made the trek home, running down the dreary, monster-infested road of my youth. I’ll never let them catch me.