time takes too much time

There is a tiny cornfield tucked away near some obscure village on the road to Riga that, every time I see it, takes my breath away.

I used to live in the middle of rolling hills and green cornfields that were dotted with Amish silos and white wooden churches with white picket fences around them.

We had boat houses, line dancing, Olive Garden and Confederate flags in driveways. We had York mall.

We had boys and girls. And we had me falling in love, and probably being the happiest I've ever been in my life in the middle of all them beautiful cornfields...