The first time I walked that pathway, was a what seems like a century ago. I never knew what it would hold, or what stories I would end up telling about it but there was a certain aura, a gravitational pull that made me only want to be there. Such a simple sandstone pathway, that seemed to go on forever. A never ending trail that I could walk, ride or run to my heart's desire. I always remember the family bike rides. Dad out the front, Cad behind him, then me and then little Henry with his training wheels at the back. Mum would always walk the dog behind us, not a fan of the concept of bikes. I, on the other hand, would ride as fast as I could, peddling until my thighs burned from the work, then I would just fly wind whipping around me, Dad yelling at me to slow down. But, times changed as we got older. Cad stopped riding with us, being nineteen his life suddenly opened up to whole new world, that un-surprisingly didn't involve family bike rides. Dad couldn't go, as he had much bigger things to worry about, but more on that later. And Henry refused to go without Dad, apparently it's not cool to go on a bike ride with your slightly uncool older sister. And, Mum left for her better version of us.So, that left me.
The lone bike rides and walks and runs (who am I kidding, I don't go for runs), had become a place where I could think. Thinking and being alone can be a dangerous mix, but it always seemed to make me feel so much better. My life had become so complicated it was a god send to think I had found a place where the world just stopped revolving. The turn of events in that year were a lot to take in to say the least. It was like the world was out to punish me and everyone I cared about. You don't realise how much it hurts until you're too close to the loss.
Until everything is too personal.