ugh nostalgia

Every day I live, I have this feeling that these increments of time are adding to unknown monumental changes. Something is happening, will happen, and I don’t know what it is. Sometimes I think the universe is magical, other times I’m terrified of the ways I’ll be tested. I tell myself everything is always working out in my favor…coping is finding reasons for unfairness. 

Contrary to what is to come, I have these memories of what used to be. I struggle to be okay with it. That my lived experience will always change. I know, happiness is fleeting, people enter and leave, some are always there, despair will pass, only to be left with a looming itch that it may all happen again. 

I search for happiness in places I no longer have access to, desperately trying to duplicate them in my current day, all knowing that deep down, those sources are already quite dead. 

This inaccessibility to myself is incredibly frustrating, clawing back to this version of me that has moved on from my grasp. I struggle to find good reasons for bad things, cooing to myself that I’m a better person for it, as if existing was intended to be a burden.

Nostalgia connects me from my current life to my past. I probably am remembering things all wrong. Maybe it’s the distance that cloaks a warm light around these memories. I have this pattern of seeking relief in the aesthetic of experiences, all while straining from the continuity of my current self. 

With every moment that passes through me, I become more creative. That’s the paradox of memory, is that no matter how many people you share them with, it is entirely yours. I reminisce with different perspectives, finding lessons from pain, resonance between my past and my present, forgiving but not forgetting. 

I miss myself, so I can take responsibility for myself.

<3