i lie there, on the foreign couch, thinking of everything i long for. and all i wish i had. through all the silence, save the air conditioner. useless. i wonder if i could have them or not. but after all the thoughts have cycled, when they have reverted back to the first, after i have teared up slightly, over everything i've lost, i still know. i cannot go back. i cannot go back. i think of happier times. and know, i cannot go back. there must be blindness.