Trapped in What No longer Is

I have never been good at detaching from the past, it likes to follow me. Questions that I left open come back to me whispering the sound of answers that I never really wanted to hear. Parts of me that I never wanted to confront. And here lies the inner contradiction: I am addicted to what I'm running away from. Does it make sense? Not quite, but feelings rarely do.

I believe each one of us is evolving at our own pace. The growing and expanding process never stops, even if it seems as if it has. However, "Why then?" I ask myself, "Why do I keep calling what is no longer here?"

Nostalgia some may call it. The deep craving for coming back to better times and the throbbing melancholy that comes with it. You see, I never learnt to measure the right amount of it to keep a healthy balance within my body. I usually overdose. My mind travels in time leaving my body cold and motionless, almost dead. I immerse myself in a continuous fantasy of joy and pain which serves as a temporary escape from a reality that suddenly seems too hard to bear.

I rejoice myself in the illusion of happier times and fall blindly into a fairy ring that keeps me from moving in the real world. I age rapidly but I do not grow old. That's the price to pay for leaving the now, and staying hidden in the dark corners of what once was and will never be again. Neverland was never cheap, especially for grownups who carry such a huge amount of memories within their pockets. It makes the return almost impossible.

There are certain places in which you cannot stay for too long. The past is one of them. Will we ever learn?