Lately, it seems that everyone has come down with bouts of nostalgia, including myself. Unfortunately, I'm not quite sure what this is ... or if it even is nostalgia. We rode bikes to my 'old house' today, and a wave of sadness crashed down upon me. This was me, my old family. This was before my dad retired, and before he divorced my step-mom then made us move away. That was before my next-door neighbors killed our dog and before our other next door neighbor (Janet) built six new fences. Those are the general memories; they're vivid and bright. Other memories don't come in so brightly. They're hazy and gray, and some details seem as though I might be making them up. Where did Ashley take me that time? All I remember is a long bike ride, with a giant hill, and guys. I can't remember what made me stay away from that block, but when I think of it, the sounds of children making fun of me is there. I don't know if it is a real memory or fabricated. But, those are the memories and the times I want to return to. Not the vivid, hurtful memories, but the ones that I can't seem to see completely.
I am nostalgic for things that may not exist.
I am nostalgic for times that I may have fabricated in my mind.
Hmph.
I am nostalgic for things that may not exist.
I am nostalgic for times that I may have fabricated in my mind.
Hmph.
1 comment:
Perhaps the nostalgia stems from the obvious changes getting ready to occur in our lives. I'm particularly nostalgic about the past 3.5 years, yet I'm overjoyed that I'm not living through their burdens any longer (or am I?). Memories of events, at least for me, feel much more intense than the feelings associated with creating them. Actually, I think that only applies to the bad memories. My good memories always lose their goodness, but the bad ones only become more real as they're rehashed. Fancy that.
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