I can feel it all. The same feelings. The nostalgia for it, but also something else… the feeling. The feeling that never truly left. The wonder, the hope, the excitement, they want us to think we stop feeling this as adults.
But we don’t. We never stop feeling it. Only the faux guilt we are served distracts us from the truth.
It’s all outside this room. I can breathe it coming in from my open window, just like I always have since I was that young reckless teen running around seeking out those same adventures.
There is peace here. There is love here. There is wonder here.
And there it is out there, in the beauty of nature. In those hiking paths. In the walks to those old castles. In the waters of Europe. In the alleys of her most ancient cities. In the hills and the valleys. In the bluest waters, in my daydreams. In my love. In the Good I have found within myself, and wish to find in my belonging.
So that perhaps I will not feel lonely again.
I made my mistakes. I learned. I saw that which I want to see in every corner of the world, and what I wished to never see again.
I lived every narrative in this place.
I have come to know myself.
Isn’t it time I come to know more of my world, the places that, at the very least in my daydreams, are calling my name?