When you live somewhere for a decade and a half, it builds layers
Like the year rings on a tree trunk, snippets and scraps of a past time
Layers upon layers, new upon the old
Layers and rings and scraps of memories
A stack of books on my desk from when I was in a book phase, now untouched for eight months
A calendar stuck on the day I left for school, a snippet of a summer never to return
A Shiba Inu plushie from my childhood, in a cart from a bookshelf that I no longer have
A pair of graduation certificates, hiding lost friends and forgotten laughter
I set a song to play, MSR – Speed of light
I rejoice that I found another fading relic of my past
Yet a song so light and merry to the ear feels but heavy and nostalgic to the heart
It is a relic of a simpler time, a time before the WHY folder,
A time when I need not worry of the ideal being dragged down by the real
A time when I need not worry of sanitized views and unnoticed biases
A time when I need not worry of so many things
The place next to the ice rink, changed and failing
The 炸酱面, once grand and appetizing
Just like Stark’s jumbo berry special, once so great, yet now so little
Does it seem different now because I changed?
Or because the world has changed?
I don’t know, and I now cannot know
Like a detective, piecing together a crime from decaying fingerprints
A kidnapping (perhaps) of myself, by myself
A kidnapping of my past, by my present
Never to be allowed to return to say goodbye, even if for only once more
Well…
I can reminisce and wish and hope all I want
Yet no amount of emotion will bring that past to bear once more
Time moves on, the world moves on
No matter how much I wish it not to
No matter how much I wish it to stay the same
The world moves forward, and I must also move forward
The music ends, the sun sets, the city wakes
The glowing reds and oranges of the clouds fade into the silver of the night
The golden reflection of the sun off distant buildings falters under the city lights
The light dies, the light is born, yet now so different from the moment before
I can only accept that it can never occur the same again
I can only search for memories and relics of the past
To scramble in trying to not forget the details
To find memories of past friends and feelings and experiences
To find evidence of a past me