I do. I remember my past so very vividly: the games, the friends, the hopes, the ignorant bliss. I remember playing house with the girl who would be my first love. We would make Witch’s Brew in the back and play Olympics in the front. Iremember playing twisted games of Ghost in the Graveyard with the rest of the kids on my street. The rules didn’t make sense, but weren’t those the “funnest” games of all? I remember thinking that smoking, drinking, swearing, gangs, and guys getting their ears pierced were all bad things. I remember my friends agreeing with me. Things change, though, don’t they? Whether you want them to or not, they change. As you get older you make little exceptions. “Just this once.” “One more little thing.” “
This is the absolute last thing changes start with me.