A cold wind blows through the trees that line my street. I can smell Autumn in the air like it were a cologne of perfume. It reminds me of when I was a child and pumpkin pie. The smell wraps around me in a breeze as my memory treats me to a moment of nostalgia.
I walk down the same road I walked from school those years before. I am in my Autumn years of life. The joy of Summer long behind me while the Winter approaches so quickly.
The street is the same and yet, at the same time, it is different. With age things appear smaller. The houses with faded paint jobs and overgrown brown grass seem less inviting than they did those years before.
My parent’s house stands almost as it did when I was child except that someone else lives here now. I watch a young couple talk and laugh as they walk past the large windows that dad once would have the Christmas Tree standing at this time of year.
I want to linger here for a moment as though I were back there, another time, and live it again. This time with less urgency. I wanted to grow up so fast, but now I see that those were the better years of a life rushing to the next moment in life. A game focused on several moves ahead, longing to win, and finding in the end the game is not about the winning but the fun of playing.
I walk on down the road, past the schools that I wanted to leave so fast. The playgrounds vacant for this Holiday. I can almost hear the faint voices of the past urging me to come and play once more, but I move on down this road so often traveled. A road of regrets. A road of so much promise lost to adult ambitions. Lost to growing up. Growing up alone. No friends. No loved one. No companion to come home to. Only the trophies of a life lived for the winning when winning it all means losing everything.