Life, remembered

We live in the past because the present hurts. 

Nostalgia is a dangerous thing to indulge in because our recollection of things are almost always more beautiful and enhanced than it really was, except the odd times where they really were beautiful and significant and life-altering.

There was this one time I lied to my family, telling them I was out with my friends when really, I was secretly taking French course - because that's what I do - and I would come home really late every Tuesday night (like 10 PM). On my way back, I often walked past this spot in the street where I live, where there was no street light, no tall building, no tree, barely a sound betraying any evidence of life. And I'd look up, staring into this wide expanse of sky and glittering stars and I could almost convince myself that I'm that close to the Universe.

I wasn't in a good place then, rapidly losing control of every aspect of my life and yet there I was, standing alone in a street where every week & found peace. As I stopped coming home late at night (those French courses were really expensive), I've put all that to the back of my mind. Until last week, where I came home late, found myself back at that very spot and for as long as my attention span would allow, stared at the night sky. And it felt wonderful.