Dear Nostalgia,

It's often that people talk about you -

All those "good old days" when things were "better."

You've been the topic of many discussions

even my own.

How easy it is for me to become wrapped up

in you.

The smallest things bring you back to me too.

A movie,

A song,

A scent...

Pogs,

remember those?

Or those Spice Girls lollipops?

The ones with the gum center?

I hated those but bought them so often

I can remember how they smelled.

Lip gloss that I had - probably around 10 years old;

Strawberry.

"Run" by Collective Soul

still breaks my heart.

So many inspiring actors now dead.

But why do I hold you in such regard?

You weren't that great.

Just as I am now,

I wasn't a happy kid

not really

Attacks I couldn't understand or explain.

A difficult kid to everyone,

but really suffering from

unidentified monsters.

The ones that didn't live under the bed

but in the dusty, cob-webbed corners of my spine.

Struggling to keep friends -

Difficult.

Always "the fat girl",

boys didn't like me.

"No one will love you. You're fat."

I was both bullied and a bully...

Always lost, I hated myself.

My youth was nothing great.

But you!

You waltz in more times than I can count

and I hold on to you

tight

and

dearly.

So much that I forget to breathe

in the moment.

When I grab on to you, sweet nostalgia

I don't have to be here.

I escape

to the youth that

in a blink of an eye,

faded away.

Time seemed infinite.

Joy seemed more accessible.

Holding onto hope

didn't feel like a heavy weight in my hands.

More pockets of joy -

a result of being able to be unabashedly excited for things.

I allowed spaces.

Even for love.

Death felt more at bay

and time with loved ones seemed to always stay.

On the nights when I feel most alone

I call for you because of what you symbolise -

the hope that I no longer have.

I don't long for you because you were better,

I long for you because of what you provided.

Time.

You're a memory

and memories are all I have.

Hope, love, happiness...

All things that feel impossible to me now.

But with you, they help me survive.

Have I romanticised you too deeply?

Held on too tightly?

Maybe

But without you,

I may lose myself

all over again.