Recovery

I would go back if I was given the chance. I would go back to when I was his, and he was mine. When everything seemed so simple, so exhilarating. Back when we would get drunk with no consequences, when we would just drive for hours and not have to come back. I would go back to that summer, because everything was so amazing, so crazy. We just left. For good, never looking back. We walked out of our homes that were falling apart. Walked out on our parents, our drunken fathers beating the shit out of us. Walked out on our sisters that didn't give a fuck. We left the psycho men next door, and our mothers that couldn't get out. We were so in love that nothing else mattered. We got out for us, and that's what made everything so much fun. Maybe it was selfish, that we didn't care about anyone else, but what else could we have done? We were dying in there. Our souls were smashed, as well as our minds, and I believe that if we hadn't done what we did, we wouldn't have made it much longer. I would go back if I was given the chance, because I have never fully forgiven myself for what I did.