Today, I rode past my old house in Renton.
It was occupied with a lovely family, a mom, a dad, and a beautiful blonde haired blue eyed son.
He had everything I never had in that house, a trampoline, a nice shed, a nice bike and an un-cracked window.
I only wish that it could have been like that for me. Maybe I'm being too selfish. Maybe I'm being a bitch again. Maybe I'm saying that since I never had the greatest childhood in that house, neither should the boy. But that's all a lie. I hope and wish that boy has everything I never had, great memories. I hope he grows up in that house just like I did. I hope he lives in my room. That was such a nice big room. I hope he has his friends come over and trash his room like I did with my friends. I hope he talks to my friend acrossed the street and have good times with him like I did. I wish him the best. I wish his mom and dad the best, because that house was built by my great grandfather's bare hands and I hope they respect it. I can't believe somebody lives there, I never thought it would happen until I saw them all enjoying fresh squeezed lemonade on the porch. As much as I hated that house, I miss it. I wish I were them.