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Time flies when you’re actually living, I suppose. I miss the person I used to be, though I’m not sure I’d return to her.
Leaving behind the chaos of my parents in Taiwan during my teenage years
with no one waiting for me in Paris
was an act of quiet bravery I couldn’t yet name. The pain back then was too vast to carry, and somehow, starting from zero at nineteen felt lighter than staying in the wreckage of it all.
+4
2d ago
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My Melodramatic Dispatch (Pt. 2 of ?)
TLDR: Summers feel different now.
The older I get… the more I remember:
Stinging hot pavement under bare feet as I raced around the block, hiding from and chasing others in hide-and-seek.
The feeling of grass and dirt squishing between my toes as I paused mid-run, gasping, hair tangled — fully alive and present.
The smell of smoke in the evening light as I crossed the street to join in making s’mores.
I remember the rush of wind as I soared on the oak tree swing made of rope and wood, my stomach flipping the higher I climbed. It felt like flying.
I remember the musk of the playhouse — getting it ready for an imaginary guest. And the day I jammed my left thumb in one of the window sills, sealed so tightly shut it popped when we finally wrenched it open.
I remember the taste of sweet popsicles from Costco — the ones that cut the sides of your mouth if you weren’t careful with the plastic.
The fried chicken my grandma would make for dinner, and eating it outside on the front porch. Inside, the air was thick with grease, wafting through the window screens.
When they were ripe, we’d go blackberry picking on the trails. And when we got home, we’d pour them over bowls of vanilla ice cream - stinging & cut fingers be damned.
When we flew out to Illinois for family reunions, my cousins, siblings and I would grab empty bottles and run through the park catching fireflies at dusk.
I remember the ice cream truck’s lilting tune, coaxing us out of the shade for a sweet treat.
And the smell of pancakes in the morning at my friend’s house — her mom setting the backyard table for breakfast after a sleepover.
I remember walking home afterward — full, tired - still in yesterday’s clothes.
The older I get, the more I cherish summer — in a bittersweet, remembering kind of way.
There’s a softer anticipation now for this year’s version of it — and a small ache for the ones I’ve already lived.
For the girl I was those past summers: unburdened, wilder, breath sharp in my lungs — racing barefoot down Tolmie Avenue.
Jun 25, 2025
Nostalgia is so powerful. And so painful.
I’ve made Pinterest boards filled with hundreds of memories and toys and things that shaped my childhood. I’ve made playlists that include only songs that make me feel 6 years old again. I’ve watched movies that bring me the same wonder they did as when I watched them as a child.
But nothing will ever truly bring me back there. It’s gone forever. to know that I will never walk the halls of my elementary school building, or try and plant an apple seed in between the slides of the playground, or play tag with my best buddies ever again is something unbearable. life is so short. I miss it all of the time.
Adulthood has its perks as well. I never have to ask to go sleep over at a friends house and get told no. I can eat what i want. I can get a kitten if I feel like it. But I miss the simplicity and happiness of being a child. I miss just existing and being okay with that. i miss how I felt when I was 6, but I have to accept that I must leave that behind.
Maybe reincarnation is real. Maybe I will live through something like this life again?
There is an ache knowing I will never walk the same tiny footsteps as I once did. But alas, I’ll be 19 years from where I’m at now and miss this age just as much as I do then. The ache will take a new shape. And i will continue living on.
Feb 12, 2025
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When I think about it, I think most of my nostalgia stems from being a child because I was unequivocally aware that I was filled with joy and trusting my present state. I was able to thrive in naivety because I was around people who had my best interest at heart. I didn't feel heartbreak simply because I was a child and had no purpose to date. I never felt true betrayal (even on the contrary of my second grade best friend randomly becoming my third grade bully...or attempted bully). My friends lived next door and on hot summer days we stayed outside from sun up til the street lights came on. Riding around the neighborhood on our bikes, buying candy from the corner store, then playing hopscotch with the bigger kids across the street. The nostalgia to truly feel free from the complexities that I face daily with interactions.
I look back and my sisters and brothers were always around. I think about the days where we danced and sang songs. Never aware that that day was the last day where we are under the same roof, laughing and mocking but with so much love in our hearts that we don't care. We just feel good.
Apr 24, 2024
