You knew I would come back, not only because I said I would, but also because you could read into the future as well as the past. But this was long ago, and now that I am here I am at a loss as to where to find you. This place is familiar, and yet not what I remembered. The trees are taller, the wall in need of repair. There, in the tower, we once played games and discovered the truth about ourselves. I promised to always come back, when I was older. You said you counted on me. When we parted something changed, somewhere in our world, or maybe it was about time: as if we were skipping many years, burning half our lives.
And now, where can I find you? I can hear your steps, but cannot see you: is that you, or the memory of you, your spirit visiting this place, now you are no longer of this world?