Who Was That Guy

I look back now at age fourteen, when life was but a rollicking dream, when the world was adventure building, when action films were still thrilling. As I see him there in my mind’s eye, I can’t help but ask, who was that guy? I think back now of age eighteen, sitting in college, confidently thinking that life was now a celebration, with no more childhood limitations. Life was nothing but a licentious ride, I can’t help but think, who was that guy? I remember back to twenty-three, when injustice would not stand, you see, but If we got our guy in office then a new chapter would start for all men. But utopia was always pie-in-the-sky, I can’t help but wonder, who was that guy? I recall when I was twenty-six, when finding a lover seemed the fix. I knew I’d find 'The One' out there, when all was right, she would appear. But things don’t happen if you don’t try, I can’t help but say, who was that guy? I believed when I was thirty-one, that I’d found a wife, and thus I’d won, thought with the foundation now in place, it would be a smooth-running race. Why think this? I can’t say why, I can only ask myself, who was that guy? And now I stand at thirty-five, not even half-way done with life, recognizing not what I used to be, but knowing still it all was me. In forty years, after the time flies I know I’ll still be asking, who was that guy?