I spent my New Year’s morning backing up all of my old files on my laptop. Not the most thrilling way to ring in 2017, but it helps me with that whole “clean slate” feeling. I then went to back up my iMessages. And that’s when I started scrolling through our entire history. I’ve been truly on my own for months now, and I’ve been reflecting on the past and who I was and currently am.
It has been said that most of us, in fact, are wild. There’s a part of us that still sits unmined. There’s a piece of our soul that still commands stardust, is still locked in the heavens, that part of us that has been described as fire. As hurricanes. Warm and disastrous. We have both the power to weave and the power to unravel.
It’s been over a year and a half since the last time we held hands. It’s not even the handholding that I miss most though. It’s not the interrupted conversation kisses, the lovemaking, or even the Thanksgivings up in Oregon with your family. It’s the fact that I lost my best friend. That’s not me idealizing anything – that’s just the truth.
I pulled out all of my old pictures this morning. Printed, not digital. Remember when we used to do that? Pick up our photos from Walgreens or Long’s or Costco. Remember the tangible? The things we could feel with both our hands and our hearts. I think I am addicted to nostalgia. So I look, knowing even the good times will hurt, too.
He rescues me in ways he doesn’t even realize. With his warm voice and sweet kisses. Like harmony and honey. I watch the Ferris wheel along the boardwalk spin round and round. A colorful pinwheel surrounded by the scent of pink cotton candy and kettle corn. We are belly laughs and rose gold cheeks. I cannot fully describe this feeling in my stomach. Something like joy and nostalgia and I’m looking at him and realizing he is my future.