Will I ever be able to romanticize the past?

In a way that I can explain it to others; like, be able to make a motion picture of it – not a real one, but a motion picture of words, a story, something written and you’ll see it before you eyes because I’ve just told it to you and I’ve done it so well.

Will I in 5 years look back at the life I live now, and somehow be able to see the beauty in it? It’s hard to imagine now – what’s beautiful with my daunted, frosty, lonely life? There’s nothing even remotely beautiful about; nothing ”so tragic it’s beautiful” or ”if you twist it to the right, take a few steps from it and squint with your eyes in a dark room, it’s kinda lovely”.

I wish I could write something to make people understand of my longing, you know? Granted, it used to be much worse, this wistfulness… Because a year ago, I longed back to a place, where I supposedly was a better version; where a shiny, lovelier version of myself magically emerged from the shell that is my hometown (and I guess, also past), and she was so great. She was amazing in every way so a year ago, every single moment I was missing her and by extension, the place where nobody doubted that the beautiful, laughing girl with joie de vivre in abundance was me. That wistfulness in itself was beautiful, I guess, but now I’ve gone from that to something more…. Matt. I’ve just realized that it wasn’t the place, I mean – the problem isn’t that i hate who I am in my hometown, the problem is that i hate who i am, period. So I don’t even have that anymore.

So no matter how realistically I see things now, this longing will never go away. By realizing the problem lies within myself I’ve taken away my only chance to reclaim my confidence, to reclaim the inner light I always felt was such a part of my personality when my life was… somewhere else.

And I guess that’s pretty much all i had to say

 

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