I visited Lake Springfield where we learned to swim early in the mornings -- the water so cold it set our teeth chattering and sent goosebumps up our spine.
I wanted that little house. I wanted to daydream from the front window and watch the leaves paint a pallet of colors under the maple tree and I wanted to wait for the winter flurries to powder the brown grass with eye-blinking snow as white as cotton.
I wanted to experience that boy’s first kiss again, to taste his lips and feel him beside me in the night as we watched the moon rise over the lake.
I wanted to hold my sister’s hand and fall back into a pile of fresh fallen leaves. I wanted to drink cocoa and shovel snow with her. I wanted her to tell me I’m doing it all wrong, like sisters do.
I want it all back.