I was looking through this beautiful tumblr and it made me think of some of the special times in my past. It hurt to leave them behind when I did, but looking back now the experiences aren’t the faded memories I thought they would be. It’s more like they are precious secrets only I know, that haven’t yet reached their time to be said out loud again.
coffee, ukelele and our hammock on the balcony
drawing on the carpet because we were paying for it anyway
days at the lake and nights under the stars
and going for a walk. So many walks! For hours or just around the corner, perfect silence or unstoppable laughter, sneaking through the maize field or playing in the snow, when everyone came or I let myself get lost alone.
All of those innocent happinesses and little adventures
But you see, the thing is,
we all have something we left behind or put on hold. I for one wish every part of my life will be as crazy/fun/loving as anything that came a little earlier, regardless of whether I’m ticking off that bucket list or just spending another year in little dear Grahamstown.
Long conversations and longer silences on the coffee shop balcony.
Turning the whole flat into a blanket fort.
Spring under the trees, where a friend is always likely to walk by.
Coming for the tea, staying for the music and leaving only because you really have to
Wouldn’t it be sad if we relied on nostalgia to make it all seem special?