Nostalgia

I’m swaying back and forth, the beat rushing up my spine and tickling something within me that I can’t quite name–but it’s moving me.

The song thrums down and I’m there with it, tears in my eyes and a well in my throat, but I’m not sad.

Just the feeling of nostalgia

Nostalgic for bike rides to the store with my brother for ice cream so cold it would hurt our teeth. Nostalgic for sitting next to my dad zooming along the highway from Prague to Munich, him telling me about his teenage years with a glint in his eye. Nostalgic for stories my mom would read to me as I fell asleep next to the fireplace. It was when they smiled most.

Nostalgic for summer nights where my friends and I would camp out in my backyard, barefoot and carefree, laying on the tingling grass watching the shooting stars in the sky. I remember we would wish upon the glimmering dash of hope, So hopeful. So eager.

Asking each other questions What do you want to be when you grow up? Where do you want to live?

Right there, in a single sitting, we would plan our whole lives out, Without a sliver of doubt in our minds,
What could go wrong? No accidents, No wrongdoings, No mistakes.