Nostalgia is a feeling. It is an emotion we get when we are trying to comfort our present minds with what was. We feel nostalgia when we are happy, but more when we are sad. We will occassionally feel nostalgia when we are happy and become sad. But more often than not, we will recall nostalgia when sad to try and be happy. But nostalgia is not a happy feeling. It’s an ache. It is the ache we feel at the base of our chest and the back of our throats. It makes us sigh and blink slowly. It makes us happily sad, or sadly happy. But any happiness tainted with some sort of sadness is not true happiness. But because we know that we cannot repeat the past, we cling to whatever we can get. Sad happiness.

I hate nostalgia. I really do. I hate the ache. I hate the pining. I hate the sighs. I hate wishing I had dragged out the moments when I could. I hate the irreversibility of the whole situation. I like situations that I can control. That if something goes wrong, there’s some sort of solution somewhere. You don’t get that when you’re thinking about things that can’t return. Nostalgia is a useless, wasted emotion. Because we pine over things that are gone, and can’t come back. No matter how much we wish they could.

“All the bright, precious things fade so fast. And they don’t come back.” -Daisy Buchanan, Great Gatsby.

It’s like when you’re having a really wonderful dream. The kind of dream that outweighs your real life easily. And you know that you’re getting to the climax of the dream, the absolute best part. You’re almost there, you know what’s about to happen and it’ll be so great. But then something stupid wakes you up. Something connecting with the real life that isn’t as great as your dream. Like your alarm clock, or the kids yelling, or your mum calling. And it’s too heart-breaking to stand so do you know what you do? You try to fall asleep and get the dream back. You try and try to picture the scene where you left off, like pausing then playing a film. But you just can’t get it back. No matter how hard you try.

It’s like hoping that you won’t die one day, like somehow, somehow, you can skip that. But it’s like, duh, you must.

There’s never any point in it. Because since, despite all the movies, noone has made a time machine, we can never go back to the past. I can’t tell you how many times I have wished and prayed and plead with all my might for just a single taste of yesterday. But I still find myself sitting in my room, very much in the present. Nostalgia can make one feel like their life isn’t getting any better, like it’s steadily going downwards. Because when we try to comfort ourselves with the past, we zoom in and magnify the good times and blot out the bad. We look at our present day with a sort of dissatisfaction. And it just seems like life was  a lot better then than it is now. Maybe it really was. But that won’t bring it back. The irreversibility of life. It’s frustrating. But that doesn’t change it.

“It does not do to dwell on the past and forget to live.” -Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter.

If Dumbledore said it then it’s got to be true.
I guess I just hate wishing for the sort of things that won’t happen again. 

Much love.

Posted from My Own Space


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