Music from my younger years spills in and nostalgia takes me over. The words roll off my tongue dusty but never forgotten. They pinch my heart the way an old sweater might pinch you in the places where you'd outgrown it. But they feel so familiar, so warm and bright with memories that I let them slip out anyway. The notes roll through me and raise goosebumps on my arms as I fall into the haze that only long suppressed feelings can stir up.
And I find myself missing the feelings I had back then. Feelings that were big and bright and consuming. I miss the high before the fall; the way I felt so alive.
I miss the way I hoped to much for so many things and my faith in people thrived. I miss the freedom I had given my heart back then.
I miss the smiles that stretched our faces so wide for so long that the muscles started to ache. I miss the way my heart felt so full that at times, it felt like it might burst.
I miss so much and I wonder now, if there's some way to get those feelings back. Some form of healing that comes in more things than old music and aching, bittersweet memory.
I miss so much but I don't know how to get it back. Feelings just slipping through my fingers, so small and fragmented and intangible that I have to shake them out of my bones the way you shake sand from your shoes.
And the way you go home sun kissed and gritty from the sea shore, I slip out of the music with an ache in my chest and a pinch behind my eyes. Because even though the feeling fades, for a moment in time the music pulls me through the clouds and then drops me back on the ground and the effects are physical, noticeable, real.
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