To My Dearest Nostalgia

I reminisce about the days I rode my sparkly-blue bike down every street and back road. Racing cars even though my legs never moved fast enough to win. The wind was always so cold against my skin, but it gave me a sense of possibility. The days I would collect fallen feathers because I thought one day I could turn them into wings and fly with the Blue Jays that nested in the tree outside my bedroom window. The days I watched reruns of Tom and Jerry and Spongebob and danced to music I didn’t understand. Because I was a kid. I didn’t need to understand.

I miss the days I just wanted to go on adventures in the woods behind my childhood home. I was a pirate in search of the treasure stolen from my ship. I was an explorer looking for undiscovered creatures and plants that could save the world. I was an astronaut that got stuck on the moon and needed to find a way off before time ran out. Houston, we have a problem. I was a cop. A superhero. Royalty. I was anything I wanted to be. I could even be nothing if that is what pleased me. I miss the vinyls and glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling. I miss not knowing what heartbreak, love, and loss was because I was more concerned with how many big marshmallows I could fit in my mouth. If you are wondering, it is 8. I miss the packed lunches in my princess lunch box and not caring about what I wanted to wear that day because we all knew it was just gonna be stained when I came back home. I miss playing with my friends at the playground until the parents called for lunch. And the boys yelling “cooties” when girls did so much as touched their pencils. I miss the ignorance and the bedtime stories. I miss finding safety under my blanket when I got scared. I miss not having categories that defined where I belong in this world.

But time passed and I’ll never get it back.

What I have learned is that life isn’t about finding love or begging for it. It isn’t about wishing to go back in time or about hoping for things we didn’t try hard enough to get in the first place. It isn’t about reminiscing. It’s about being in the now.

So I will keep doing what I do. Late nights out with friends. Going to small venues. Laughing through the streets as we look for a pizza place that is still open. And we will drive in the van blasting our favorite tunes as I memorize every turn. Because this is how I learn. To deal with feelings that burn. Following the freedom we all yearn for. And we will joke because that is all we seem to do. Laughing at jokes you would laugh at too. We sought comfort in the lies, the jokes, the games, losing ourselves and the value of truth.

As I slowly forget that all You do is twist the truth and blame everyone but you.

Nostalgia, you’re one hell of thing...

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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