When Nostalgia Is Your First Love

It’s not often you get a second chance. It’s supposed to be impossible to time travel. But there we were – different living room floor, different time, same us. We even looked exactly the same despite that certain quality of time passing that exists in the eyes.

Convinced the fondest of memories rested at the bottom of the bottle, we took turns sipping on nostalgia and getting drunk off shared experiences. I’m convinced our time apart served us solely to share stories that night. Age was on our side for once – we had opinions about things other than our peers, thoughts on what comes next and even after that, and a looming understanding that the three people existing in that room would be forever changed by the next phase of life. For every bottle cap leaving an imprint in the carpet was a “what if.”

What if I had looked the other way that day? What if I hadn’t sat down? 

These nights are the ones worth waiting for. The kind where the perfect song plays on shuffle and the temperature is just right enough to have the windows down.

You never realize how young you were until you’re older, but we were young and old at the same time that night. Time only passed in laughter and meaningful words which is how it’s supposed to be. The purest palpable energy, the most honest of emotions, and the most effortless wave of conversation all wrapped up in our perfect present.

I promised you I’d write this.