Missing: Long Walks

I'm missing the rainy seasons of October where I took long walks in the streets between the Wingra Lake and the Zoo, Monroe street and the Monroe Library I ended up, and late at night, found all these mystic signs I interpreted that I was going to get better, I was healing and that regardless of my age, a good future was waiting for me. The nights where I could not get home soon enough from the day, night and go out to my wilderness to come face myself, reality, failures and acceptance of the miserably fallen self that had isolated myself so much that the only voices I heard of mine own, inside my own head. The breeze by the lake, the bicycle bells walking up and down the slight hill and the wooded areas most avoid, I took sanctuary in their bays, coves and darkness.