No More Sorry

I once had a landlord who took me in as his own daughter.
He would take me camping and told me to “warsh” the plates.
He would tell me how he liked Asians because we were hard-working
And rather prosperous
His family was ideal with a lovely wife and daughter.
They also let me into their lives and I latched on
To a functioning family.

One day, the lovely wife,
beautiful and years younger,
She has an affair and divorces him.
My perfect family is torn asunder and I bail
Because it hurt me too much
Or, it no longer fit my ideal
The lovely daughter hated me anyway
Probably because I had known
But my mouth stuck shut
To preserve the integrity of the sham. 

Years later, 14 to be exact.
I find myself driving to a park for a run.
In the lot an old man boils a pot of coffee in a station wagon
Stuffed with things
I pay no never mind and run about the park thinking of
Life, money
I come back to my car to find the old man still there
Sitting in his home and staring blankly.
He looked familiar.

I ran away, a tug wanting to veer me back
Fear pushing me away. 

I ran away but now I want to go back.
Memories pushing me there.