"It was as if my father had given me, by way of temperament, an impossibly wild, dark, and unbroken horse. It was a horse without a name, and a horse with no experience of a bit between its teeth. My mother taught me to gentle it; gave me the discipline and love to break it; and- as Alexander had known so intuitively with Bucephalus- she understood, and taught me, that the beast was best handled by turning it toward the sun."
Eventually, as you grow older, you learn and you see things you didn’t see before. And once this happens, you slowly filter out those people you never realized were pulling you under. It’s a sad experience of liberation, you tend to think back on all the pleasant memories, and maybe it’s best to try and remember those. Instead of all the reasons why you’re not going back.
