The Great Gatsby Continued...

        After the events of that summer, I couldn't stay in West Egg anymore, so I headed back home to the Midwest towards the rest of my family. It was most unpleasant having my reintroduction to Minnesota be during the winter, but my relatives kept my heart warm despite the freezing cold outside. I eventually found a small bond business which I could put my skills to, although it felt weird to work in such a place not contained in a bustling overgrowth. I heard from one of the family that Daisy and Tom had moved overseas again to someplace in Europe, the city of which I still don't know. 

        Despite being content after having moved back, the entire time I was there felt empty and hollow, like I was waiting for Jordan or Mr. Gatz or Daisy to reappear at some point and welcome me. Eventually, I grew distant and separated from the shine of New York, although the green afterglow of Gatsby continued to prey on me for years, although after enough time, even Gatsby slowly started to dwindle in my mind. 

        About 7 years or so after I had left the Egg, the Depression occurred. While I had enough business sense to keep myself afloat, I saw many of my neighbors and immediate family struggle. It was at some point during that famine that the memories of my time in New York reappeared vibrantly for the first time in my head in years.

        I wondered if Gatsby with his immense wealth would have been bothered by even a depression of this magnitude, or if Daisy and Tom had to cut back even a little bit on their spending habits, although considering their lustrous status, I believe they were as inconvenienced by the Depression as they were by each other. I didn't have to reflect much on Jordan though, I knew she had been ruined by the Depression easily, her golf ball lacking any value compared to even a penny during this time. I will admit that I do enjoy the idea that some of those vain partygoers eventually became coarse ash themselves. Mr. Gatz would have obviously struggled during the Depression, although considering his old age, I would not be surprised if he passed before the recession even began.

        Late into the distress, there was that riot in Washington of the Great War veterans wanting their checks at immediate notice. I did not go myself, for I was well-off enough to not need such handouts, but it was most intriguing as a survivor myself. 

        Eventually, the Great War became a footnote to its successor, but at that point, I was too old to even sacrifice myself in a conflict. During this entire period, I did find many women that interested me, but none ever captivated me enough to make me have a fool of my own. 

        Shortly after that travesty came to a close, a full score and 4 years after those events on West Egg, there was a wedding to commemorate the end of the war. The subjects of which were most surprising. After aeons, I received a letter in the mail from someone I could have never imagined hearing of again. Tom and Daisy's daughter was getting wed to some baroque millionaire, and I was invited to their wedding on the other end of the world. I was aghast that Tom and Daisy's daughter was communicating with me more than her parents did, but I turned down the invitation anyhow, I couldn't be bothered to drag up those memories after so long a time. 

        Yet despite my refusal to appear at the wedding in a effort to avoid thinking of that summer, whenever I get tired and let my mind wander like I have now, I begin to reflect on these events all over again, drawing me back to the unchanging past long gone.