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Home » Post Item » Nostalgia can be depressing.
Nostalgia can be depressing.
July 19, 2007And I always seem to want to test its limits, to see how far down I can wallow, to stretch myself until I implode into half a dozen alter egos.
So far I've already pinpointed one, who argues with me ALL the time. But where is this post going? I merely wanted to rant against perilous nostalgic journeys, not discuss my not-so-apparent psychological impulses. Please ignore the first line of this paragraph.
Did you know that many great poets were depressed more than half the time? And that their masterpieces were written while in their deepest pits of depression? And nearly all of them are nostalgic. Memories that could not be quenched.
*sigh*
Thoughts plague me. Memories haunt me. Sweet, painful memories of moments and things and places and people that have slipped out of my reach. They hound me like a curse.
Billiards and spicy dilis. The scent of hot flavored instant coffee, and your teasing words. BEER. You're such an angel. Josh Groban. IM conversations.
Tara Reid and American Pie. You look like the girl in American pie. Oh, sh*t. It's your smile, your face, your lips that I miss. Your voice when you sang that song. Your hands when they held mine, your arm when it rested casually around my waist, your scent when I hugged you. Eyeglasses and overnight youth camps. Worship songs. The sight of you on drums. Your hand as it touched my cheek. They said your face lit up each time you saw me. They thought maybe you liked me, too. I didn't listen; I was scared of hoping and hurting. They said it was a struggle, it wasn't the right time. Hang the right time! Tell me the truth, Stef… Tell me the truth…
Tell me the truth, —-!
But the truth is long gone.
I've lost you.
Damn.
