Nostalgia

I have always had an affinity for words that sound pretty. And by pretty I mean – oh, I don’t know but you know, words that look so gorgeous in print and sound so magical at the tip of your tongue. Words like evanescent and myriad and nostalgia. I was very little when I first heard the word nostalgia and although I had no idea what it meant, I made a point to remember it.

Now that I have gained some years and enough experience to know the true meaning of nostalgia, I can confirm that it is associated with the most beautiful and at the same time the most heartbreaking things ever.

Nostos/home and algos/pain: the pain of longing to return home.
To a place better than here.
A place we’ve already visited.
A place which is who knows where.
Maybe tucked into a space in our minds where what we remember casts a hazy glow over what really happened.

In the past few days, I've had to make some difficult decisions that involved letting go and moving on.  Except I haven’t moved on. I now remember only the good bits and forget all the things that made me decide to walk away in the first place. And that’s nostalgia for you.  It’s only half-real. It’s bittersweet. It’s torture and it’s irresistible. But if we allow ourselves to let the longing for the past stop us from moving ahead, well that would be a terrible terrible thing, wouldn't it?

So I have decided to go with it. Remember the good. But also remind myself that if those were the happy times, then life can only get better. And if when it does, of course I shall let you know all about it.

C