The Good Old Days

The sun, when it’s not shining too brightly that it sticks our clothes to our skin—this almost always means that I have a good day ahead, no matter what happens.

The good days—what is so “good” about them? Was it that really beautiful, like how we remember them now?

Maybe it really was, but on second thought, I do believe that Nostalgia can be a con, making us believe that things were better than they really were.

But I also believe that sharp twinge in our chests doesn’t make us wince for no valid reason.

That twinge comes from when we tend to bask too much in happiness that we dismiss a person who means so much to us. It happens all the time, but frequency doesn’t always equate to okay.

Saying it’s normal to fail in dismissing a person for a while because it happens all the time doesn’t outweigh the consequences of doing it.

We enjoy things, we get caught up in all the drama, the little victories, failed tests, and heartbreaks that we fail to witness and participate in other storylines besides ours.

We fail, too, in making that someone feel how much they are loved. Admired. Cared for.

We are not perfect—and it even burns more the day we realize it—the day we realize we failed to see how much a person means to us until they are gone. Never to come back, without even any goodbyes.

And we can’t do anything but just live with it, until it becomes a memory again. Ready to be glorified someday when we’re wrinkled, drunk, and regretful.



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