When I read Catcher in the Rye all those years ago I remember Holden Caulfield saying near the end of the book that he always fantasized himself as standing in a field of tall rye while people ran through it, and when they stumbled and fell he caught them. I may remember wrongly but that stuck with me through the years, and also explains the title. I haven't read about that particular aspect of the book but I think it's the crux of the book. "He's not heavy, he's my brother" or "when you saw only one set of footprints, that is when I carried you..." "Like a bridge over troubled water" someone has been that to me for many years, and now it's my turn.
The long war I waged since 1974 is over, I think. My friend may stoop to conquer; I don't know. But I do follow the Light and the Truth and if reality is really the essence of a rose I may have grasped it already. I want a real rose, no fantasy gardens for me. I can play, though, can't I?