nostalgia, and how to abandon nostalgia. (dear you, pt. 9)

i think that this is what it feels like to abandon nostalgia,

because the things that have passed were great,

(in fact, they were incredible),

and the people in the past were great,

(in fact, they seemed incredible),

but the memories seem tainted now.

the rush of those moments and the thrill of the nights,

now stained by stark reminders of where i took myself,

and who i tried to become.

i had it all and lost it all,

only for so many of the ones i thought i loved to become ghosts.

i think this is what it feels like to let go,

because the calls stopped as soon as better options and opportunities presented themselves,

and as soon as i didn’t have anything more to offer that you wanted.

the joy of giving myself away seems squandered now on people who didn’t seem to want to give any of themselves back.

at the end of the day, the more you allow yourself to be treated like a commodity, the more you’ll mistake that for community.

i think this is what it feels like to wake up,

desperate to rewrite the future while taking the best of the past and shaping my present reality.

it’s all so simple now when looking from a distance. it’s painfully obvious and sometimes more painful than usual. but the fight is slowly proving to be worth it.

the things that made me broken are teaching me to be whole.

and so while i miss the many things that I have lost,

i’m learning to embrace the things that i have been given in order to receive far more in the future.

it’s scary and painful and downright exhausting. but it’s a fight worth fighting every time.

dear you,

i miss you, and all of the moments we shared together; all of the laughter and tears and honesty. i wish we could have that again.

but i think this is what it feels like to finally love myself.