Life has slowed down.
Time to post something.
Finally.
About Indonesia
Or about jeeps.
Or coffee…
Then I got a phone call.
I burnt a lot of bridges,
changed jobs, left town,
or I would have heard sooner.
And I wouldn’t go back if I could.
Still
There is grief.
And guilt.
And loss.
What if I had fought?
What if I hadn’t walked away?
Would it have made a difference?
I was angry. Hurt. Whatever.
And now it doesn’t matter.
Its simply too late.
