If nostalgia was a person, he would be the saddest, most hopeless lump of a human ever to walk the face of the earth. Eternal and depressed, Nostalgia would float along sidewalks, hovering through crowds, washing the minds of everyone he passes in a wave of sudden saddening memory.
It is gentle and slowly devastating. The void he leaves in his wispy wake becomes magnetic, drawing you closer to the pavement, the floor.
And before you know it, there you are, lying on the ground. Looking at nothing and something, thinking about nothing and everything.
Tonight Nostalgia paid me a personal visit. He sighed through my window as I started out into the darkness, floated behind me as I tiptoed up my stairs, and curled up on my floor with one final sigh before looking at me helplessly, emptily, and then sinking into the carpet and leaving me alone. The air he left behind was enough to permeate my whole being.
I began the search...the futile search for things in my possession that existed from another period of my life not so near to this current chapter. Old pictures of Ava and I at swim meets in Bishop, yearbooks from one and two years ago, letters from friends and family, and mere memories trapped in the trellises of my head.
And then the sinking feeling. That slow, eventual call to the floor, the one that beckons me place my side on the carpet, hug my knees to my chest and look at nothing and something, think about nothing and everything.
This picture here, his window into my head, is nothing but the remnants of Nostalgia, the stain of his presence that favors the late hours of the night and weird hours of the early morning.
For tonight, I've given up trying to clean my room and myself of his visit. Tonight is for Nostalgia, a time to mourn the way things used to be and reluctantly move into tomorrow...
Goodbye November the 29th, 2008. I won't be seeing you again.
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