I have come back to the reason why I started writing in the first place.
This was to find peace. I wanted to know if peace was real and I also wanted to know If happiness was real. Is life real? Is love?
Is it?

It is important to say this.
We have to find a way to make it through . . .
I offer this because not everyone is having the time of their life right now.
I say this, too, because there will be bouts and times and moments with no peace.
No justice or warmth for the hands.

It is safe to say that while we find ourselves amidst the worst of times, it is too hard to see the skyline or find the heavens or, at minimum, there are times in life when it’s hard enough to breathe let alone take a minute to walk away or just regroup.
But we have to.

I know there is always a sense of peace. I know there is.
I know this because I have found this, even in the worst of places.
Even when times are wild or when chaos is everywhere, I know that there’s always something out there.
There’s always someplace to look or somewhere to find peace. Even if this is only in our minds, the truth is peace is still out there.
I know that there is something out there, more beautiful than my words can describe and more lifesaving than crash cart or an ambulance. I know there are rescues for the soul – everywhere.

What are the things that bring you peace?
Is it the sunset? Is it the sunrise?
Is it an old movie that comes on television and brings you back to a memory of when you were younger? Or is it something else that brings you back to a time when life was less complicated?

Of course there are things that we wish would never change. There are times and moments that we wish we could relive or rewind, just so we could see them again, exactly as they were. Perfect, just like the first time.
The lights would be equally bright. The moment could be magnified and as for myself, well, I could slip back into a moment of excess. I could peel back the moment to a place where life was kind and the moment was sweet.
It would be that simple.
Of course, if it were up to me, our dreams would never die.

There is a time which I recall, long ago, and from a lifetime that seems to be so far away.
I was young and on the verge of a thousand different things. My life was changing. My Mother had moved. My Father was gone. My family had spread itself thin and my friendships were changing.
I saw how life would move in cycles. I saw this, just like the different seasons of winter, spring, summer and fall.
There are good times and bad times. There are days when we find ourselves in the perfect company and yes, there are times when it seems as if our loneliness and heartache is payment for the good times, which were less than innocent.
I know this well.

Before anything goes onward from here, the answer is yes. I have to keep moving with this.
I have to keep my commitment to an idea I had, a long time ago. Yes, I have to keep writing.
You have been with me for a very long time now. Then again, in my eyes, you are always with me and you will always be with me, no matter what.
Since this is true to me, and since you have been with me from what seems like the beginning, then before opening this up to a new topic, I want to say thank you for coming this far with me.