Nostalgia

By Helen

That feeling when you pass by a place you used to frequent as a child or just a few years back. A familiar perfume drifts by, and suddenly, memories come flooding into your mind. Or maybe you’re driving down an old road you used to take to work, and the memories start resurfacing, like lava breaking free from a deep volcano. You smile, realizing those moments are now just memories, like any other lost day. You recall the days and moments you spent in those places, once feeling as if they’d never end.

I recently passed by my old apartment. I’ve lived in different places, but this one left a feeling like no other. It faced southeast, and the sun’s rays would pierce through the windows, warming the cold winter air.

My brightly lit room always reminds me of my partner. Every morning, a beam of sunlight would escape the shades and fall on his hair before my alarm rang. I’d wake up to see him still sleeping and would slowly caress his hair. He’d stir a little, letting the sun’s rays cascade over his brown hair. Those memories flood my mind whenever I pass by that apartment.

And then there’s the Starbucks downstairs—during winter, when the sun sets at 4, its bright lights and the sound of Christmas songs bring back memories of a past that now feels buried.

So I decided to sit by that Starbucks and write down these memories, sipping the usual latte I used to get. Suddenly, I found myself immersed in those memories, recalling the ending that marked another beginning. I remember loading my small box into my Corolla, tears rolling down my cheeks. It was an end, but it also marked a beginning—a beginning that, like all beginnings, will eventually come to an end.