Yesterdays

The past never disappears.

All the yesterdays we walked through turn into a long shadow, cast behind us, following us. Sometimes they fade a little, but they will never disappear. They are always there.

From time to time, memories come back to make us smile, and other times they come back to haunt us. In those times, I think to myself, wow, I will always walk in my own shadow no matter how different my surroundings are. And only I myself can truly understand that. And only I myself can carry that weight onward.

I’m reminded of a particular summer day. It’s funny, because for me, the conversation we shared that day seemed so trivial and pointless at that time in that moment, yet when the memory of it strikes me, I can remember every small detail. I remember the burning sun, the bustling Starbucks we dropped by, the decorations in his car, the stern expression on his face, the shade of his purple shirt, and the staircase we walked up.

We were talking about how he met her. He told me that he wasn’t happy. He told me that he wanted to go far away. He told me that he was trapped, lost, weak. But contrary to the topic of conversation, his eyes smiled when they found mine, with a twinkle of mischief.

I might never forget those eyes. Despite how insignificant that day, that conversation, that moment, and that person, are to me today, I might never forget them.

I now laugh about my younger days spent foolishly in oblivion and blind trust. I did some stupid things, and I may have been hurt, but in no way do I regret anything. They scarred me just as much as they shaped me.

Time really is a magical thing, isn’t it?

What used to be a major life-changing time, is now nothing but a story of the past. What used to be so precious and beautiful in my eyes, are now only faded anecdotes.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. (“The Great Gatsby” by Fitzgerald, F. Scott