It always comes back to this. This pang of nostalgia that hangs over me like a cloud of dirty brown smog. It disguises itself as something beautiful to cling to, but really, it isn't good for me in any way. Memory is such an odd thing. Our brains like to distort the past into being better than it was, selecting those times that were good but probably not nearly as good as we think they were. The truth is that those ancient days that I often find myself lost in were pretty miserable. Always the shy and quiet girl, hopelessly infatuated with boys who used me or mistreated me or didn't really acknowledge me much at all. Having friends where I mostly tagged along but never truly fit in. I was just kind of that one girl who was there but not necessarily participating and present like everyone else.
I suppose that reminiscing a lot is part and parcel for being basically 'middle aged.' It's these years I'm facing now where you can no longer deny that you're aging, that you're further and further away from the carelessness of youth. The future you could've had is long gone because right now *is* the fucking future. It's a lot for anyone to bear, honestly.
These days that I succumb to the nostalgia happen a bit more frequently now. I guess it's because I've been so still. My life has taken on this incredibly steady pace that I couldn't have fathomed a few years ago. And with that stillness comes boredom and far too much opportunity to dwell on things since there isn't much else going on that is otherwise interesting or stimulating or whatever.
I have no major plans moving forward aside from (hopefully) buying a house in the next year or two, and (hopefully) spending more time with someone I care about very much, but even in the absence of anything truly tangible on the horizon, I am realizing more and more that my life is taking on an entirely new place. The dread of my child growing up and moving out is actually happening now, like, RIGHT NOW, and I've been so worried about him being gone that I didn't stop to think how much this means for me in a good way. That this pattern I have been in, without any real effort on my part, is shifting itself around, and maybe, just maybe, that isn't all a bad thing. I still am up to my eyeballs in dread I assure you, but I'm trying very hard to see past it a little bit so that I can gather a bigger panoramic view of what my life will be in what truly is a 'new chapter' that's about to begin. I hope it doesn't suck.
