Take me back to before the Great Recession, when the girl sitting in front of the overflowed class with the starry-eyed eyes and the everlasting words did her homework better. Let me feel that time when each day was repetition capitalized and paralyzed and it was fine and just and right. Let me know that the wars were on and they were on and on and on, but we regulated it; we stored it away nicely. Take me back to the swing sets after school, the first cell phone kind of year, the ravishingly-wonderfully watchable episodes of Deal or No Deal. Take me back to strolls in the nature preserve with my eighth grade class, wondering how it was relevant but reveling in its wonder. Take me back to not minding the weekday but getting the most out of the weekend. Take me back to petting zoos and homemade grilled cheese and sleeping in and waking up. Put me in that year, drop me in that season of the century, close and lock the door, and let time cease cease cease until I am at peace once more.
