Nostalgia is Fatal

I swear it hits me like a slap in the face. Hard, fresh, sudden and leaving a sting that I can’t quite tell if it ever goes away when I think of it.

When I least expect it, when I’m working, when I’m in the shower, and of course, when I am about to close my eyes for the night — it hits me.

I suppose it makes sense that it would keep coming back up, my brain is so full to the brim with sweet and sour memories that it would have to spill over into my conscious mind eventually. I have had so many experiences, so many thoughts and so many loves that it’s almost laughable when one comes back to remind me to reminisce for a bit. Like an unwanted rabbit trail of distraction just to make sure all of my emotions are still fully working.

For me, it’s like a big screen that begins playing a movie that I didn’t ask for, as soon as the the first thought runs across my mind. The second I think of a person with whom I’ve shared a piece of my heart with, I start to hear the whirring of the projector reel going and I am unable to avoid the film or search for an emergency exit.

Last night it was as I settled into my bed for the night, I rested my head on the pillow and as a bit of my hair got stuck, I gently moved it and there my mind went, off to the movies again. Suddenly, with a sharp intake of breath, I swore I could feel your hand slowly petting my hair and brushing it out of my face as I looked at my phone. I rolled over and could not escape the image of your eyes, trailing over my face as I talked incessantly. What you were thinking about me- I’ll never know but I do know that it felt so incredibly warm to be looked at like that. Like you’ wanted to remember every single detail of me, for as long as you could.

Funny how something so insignificant can happen just one time but change you for life.

Today as I worked diligently, trying to make up for lost time, my mind wandered off and before I knew it I was back there again. This time the depths of the internet brought me back to years ago and I found myself scrolling through old photos and laughing at how young we were. I was struck with the realization that despite how terrible things had gone and eventually ended up, they really loved me to my core.

I felt nausea's, weak, almost gross even and I wondered if this was what deep regret felt like but it wasn’t. It was nostalgia.

Deep, intense, and incredibly meaningful nostalgia had once again taken me hostage and there was no Liam Neeson coming to rescue me. I could keep working yes, I could go distract myself yes, I could even push the memories away for awhile but I knew in the depth of me that it had already sunken in.

I argued with myself, I didn’t feel the same way I did anymore about those people so why did it feel like I had just been sucker punched in front of everyone?

Because nostalgia has no end and no beginning. It follows no time space continuum. It cares not if you are busy, if it is unwanted or even if you are so utterly fulfilled by something else now. It’s a wonderful figment of the human imagination created by us and distributed by our most passionate emotions.

Yes, nostalgia is fatal for me but oh, what a heavenly way to die.