Nostalgia if you ask me

5 Apr 2023

Our stories were written jointly.

We all sung our tunes together.

But suddenly everything is gone.

stored like pictures in a section of my memory I've dubbed "memories."

And occasionally, as I turn those pages and reflect gently on the past, recalling who we used to be—sitting in class having in-depth discussions, trading poems and thoughts, or just laughing till we couldn't breathe—it makes me yearn to be a child once again.

Sometimes, unplanned memories—a recalling phrase said here, a recognizable music heard there, or a burst of laughter—catch me off guard and overwhelm my senses with nostalgia.

the urge to relive them, to recreate the transitory into the eternal, and to experience the love that endures.

My entire being is seized by its grip.

My heart is once more racing with that wonderful yearning for the past.

And that's when I understand it's just the wistful wish of a child who never learned how to be an adult.

I was forced to make do with stepping through the moments like they were doors, only allowing my heart to flutter and flicker with the joy I had previously known.

It serves as a reminder of the joy I once experienced, the love I still have, and the things I no longer possess. The sweetness is in the knowledge that this happiness will never return.

As I go from this location, a peculiar sensation fills my chest.

It's as though I won't only miss the people I love, but the person I was in that situation because I'll never be the same again.

And I cling to it—to that memory, to that identity I want to hold on to—for fear of letting it vanish and turn into a ghost or a shadow.

Everything I've ever loved has turned into everything I've ever lost.

Wasn't it lovely when we had complete faith?

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