|Original Photo taken from StockSnap|
Today I took an early train to Cologne. It was just about dawn. The sun was slowly rising over the soft hills covered in their autumnal, golden brown dress. The scenery was the same as usual, with the same houses and the same trees, but the way the morning light illuminated everything with this warm sheen made me feel nostalgic.
Not soon after our departure I could see a hill. On the top of this hill is a hospital, surrounded by a forest. Underneath that hospital is the house where I used to live, together with two friends I have known since middle school. And suddenly a wave of memories overcame me.
It was not the best neighbourhood to live in, but so many good things in my life are attached to this place, as well as the people I used to share it with. I remembered our evenings together just chatting, snacking and talking along to "the Emperor's New Groove" or any Monty Python film. I remembered how we used to go on walks in the woods and how we went grocery shopping together almost every week for three years, with me being the designated driver (for I was the only one with a driver's license and a car). I remembered how carefree I was.
Those three years were the best of my life so far. I was so carefree, because the real world seemed so far away. I had an amazing group of friends, this great apartment I shared with people who were so like me, who understood me, who did not feel offended when I felt the need to spend some time alone. Because they felt just the same way.
I remembered the day when I saw this cute guy on the bus on my way home from uni and the surprise when he got out one station before mine. He was my new upstairs neighbour and my big crush for almost over two years. The nights we spent watching films together and making pizza. That one Halloween party where we almost kissed and spent the morning huddled against each other.
Thinking of those happy years was a harsh reminder of the life I'm leading right now. I am not unhappy. In fact, I am rather lucky, but things are happening. Things have to happen, because it is how life goes. Soon, I will hand in my final thesis. I have to start looking for a proper job next month. Eventually, I will have to move out of the apartment I just started to really call my home.
I am to torn between the desire to move forward with my life and this strong feeling of nostalgia which makes me think that life will never be as good as it was back then.
It is always easy to look back and see everything through rose-coloured glasses, to blurr the lines and make everything look all smooth and nice, because we only want to remember the good things. You want to think back to the moment when you and your friends sat together on the couch laughing about a silly joke instead of the moment when you stood in the kitchen, annoyed, because someone forgot to clean up the toast crumbs on the counter.
I have always been a victim of living in the past. Sometimes I spend hours just remembering the same moment over and over again and at times I even wish I could return to it to relive it, maybe even change it. It is a beautiful and dangerous thing to be so caught up in the past. It is a part of me that will probably never fade away, but right now I have to force myself to not only look toward the future, but to actively approach it.
Life is scary. And it always will be.