500 WORDS, DAY 118: Melancholy/Nostalgia

Joy and sadness all come over me and converge into a constant feeling of melancholy, a faint satisfaction which is strange to try to describe, as I think of what I’ve sacrificed and what I’ve gained, both consciously and unconsciously, throughout the fleeting years of my life up until now. That melancholy has become so familiar to me that it is something like my closest friend, if I’m being honest. Memories of the times of chaos and disorder bring up so much nostalgia, so much emotion. I realize I really miss the reckless days of being a teenager, although I am fully aware that those times have passed, just as they were supposed to, and that it’s now time to move forward and onto better things. I know I can’t become trapped in old ways now that I’ve come so far. It might not seem so from the outside, but I know how far I’ve come. I know it, and I feel it. Those hazy days seem so far removed from me now, and I ultimately feel like an outsider in the world now that I’ve outgrown my past self. I guess I feel as if I am an nothing but a curious observer in this world, watching life unfold from a distant standpoint, like nothing is really real anymore. I don’t know exactly how this nostalgic, melancholy feeling relates to this feeling I now have, of being an observer in the world, but I have the nagging suspicion that they’re both intertwined, and may even be one in the same, in a weird way unknown even to me. I remember I used to be immersed in the moment, no matter what the moment entailed. I remember catching visionary glimpses of euphoria, with and without substances. They could come from any direction, from the beauty of the snow-capped mountains in the distance, to a fresh breeze as I walked through a sandy beach on a sunny day. I remember the simple joy of going on break at school and catching up with my friends over a Belmont cigarette at the smoke pit. Was it all just the joy of being young and dumb? Of really not knowing any better? Or knowing better, yet being able to ignore it, being okay with it? My heart races now just from thinking about all the trouble I caused during my high school years, and all the times I spent wishing I could escape and just fast forward to any time in the distant future. It’s actually really anxiety-inducing. Ironically, I still find myself reminiscing on the past, thinking that if I could do it all over again, I would cherish all those times, and all the trouble that came along with them, understanding that they were only a moment in time, and that they were lessons I had to learn, and that they would eventually pass. Overall, I know that such an opinion is only illusory in a way, since everything happens how it is meant to happen, no matter how many mistakes we make. I’m not sure how to conclude all this, but I have enough words for today, so maybe this is a good place to leave it. I appreciate you reading. Remember, life is for living and learning.