Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again. #
I went back to my college, for only the third time since leaving it more than five years ago.
It was the same. I parked where I always used to park, walked up the same steps, past the labs where I spent many nights working on code while listening to the White Album.
But it was different. People looked much younger than I recall.
There’s another college, in another town, that I left almost nine years ago.
Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me..” #
Though “beautiful” and “pleasant” are probably overstatements. I’ve been back there too, about three times since leaving it nine years ago.
We can never go back to Manderley again. #
You can go back to a place, but you really miss the time.