Things that aren't there No.1

My favorite spot back where I grew up: A small and quiet coffee house.
My run down crappy car. My grandfather sold it to some young Chinese marriage. They looked incredibly pleased with it.
Almost all the friends I made during High School.
Pleasant memories about my first girlfriend.
Pleasant memories about my hometown.
Some idea of maturity my family had about me for about three months.
The first apartment I rented which still holds many hurtful and beautiful memories. I still go back to that old, hidden neighborhood every once a while, just to make sure it's still there, even though I'm not.
Some sort of stability.
Answers to getting out of this rut.
Something to chase, in order to live the thrill of it.
And the four walls in which, for a short time, we connected and built and shared more than we ever noticed, and in which we actually dreamed we could make it.