He looked behind him and wondered if the past would ever let him go, or if he'd be haunted by his memories a lifetime over. He'd moved cities and towns trying to get away from the pain and the awful memory of what had happened there. And yet the pain, the agony - it was all still there. Ever present in the back of his mind. It didn't matter how happy he could become, it would still be there to ruin that happiness. If he succeed, the success would always be cheapened by the guilt. How could he ever look back and be at peace? Even if it hadn't been entirely his fault, what if it had been? Should something so terrible- so awful- ever be just one person's fault? Could it not be said that ultimately every problem, every story, every situation ultimately has two sides of the coin - of the blame - of the road? He had taken a road to lead him away from the pain, so he had thought. Yet, the pain seemed to be around every turn, every corner of this road - ahead, behind, to the right and the left. Maybe the pain was trying to tell him something, help him in some way. If he could not get past the idea that this was his fault he would never be able to see anything beyond that sorrow. Sorrow. His sorrow, for what had happened and for his place in the happened. If he had the chance to go back and change it, should he? Would he? He was finally looking back at the memories and seeing them in a different light - finally seeing beyond hurt and suffering to growth and light. Could light come out of such darkness? And yet, had it not? Was that not light at the top of this hill?
He looked back and in seeing his memories of the pain finally saw his true reflection in the looking glass...he was not longer at the source of the pain, but to the healer of it.
For him, it wasn't the road, but the Healer, that made all the difference.
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