Rewind about year ago: The sun is burning so bright; I can feel the heat through

the window as I drive my Nissan Versa Hatchback to pick up my friend angsty after a practice AP exam to go to a picnic with some friends we never really talk to. We lay down our massive blanket and appreciate the feast of snacks we collectively created: Strawberry cake, chips, chocolate pretzels, lemonade. We are obligated to participate in that new TikTok trend as we press our champagne glasses into the strawberry cake, and laughed hysterically as it went everywhere, definitely not matching up to the viral videos. In a random patch of grass by the lake, we sat in tranquility as we envision what our days after high school would look like with only weeks left until we walk across the stage. Smothering ourselves in tanning oil with a chemical aroma of coconut, as we followed the trail, I had run on for the last 5 years, telling each other our crazy or not so crazy stories from high school as we awaited the day our caps and gowns would actually arrive.

queqe: “Television” -Rex Orange County

Rewind 5 years ago: Sitting in the back of the van as we drive 45 minutes in a horrendous wave of dark clouds and lightning strikes just to be told that our golf match was canceled, and the other team had absolutely no plan of coming whatsoever. Listening to “No Brainer” by DJ Khaled as we ate our strawberry Uncrustables: ultimate team bonding. First tournament of my high school career was a series of events in which none of them actually included playing golf.

queqe: “No Brainer” -DJ Khaled, Justin Beiber

Rewind 10 years ago: My skin is warm from the burning sun of the summer as I return to the condo, making sure to leave my boogie board outside the door, leaving tracks of sand from my feet on to the cold tile. Moms are cutting up juicy watermelon slices, and we kids are hanging up our matching bathing suits to dry for the next day as we pull on our fresh, clean, pajamas with some cringey little quote, and smiley faces. We laugh hysterically as we blow up the air mattress and eat those little disposable bluebell ice creams.

queqe: “California Girls” -Katy Perry

Rewind 12 years ago: We excitedly choose our favorite snacks from FamilyMart, my personal favorite being those fake ice cream cones (Caplico if you’re curious as to what I am talking about)! Irritated because my mom put me in a frilly outfit with big ribbons on the sleeves, we sit in front of the giant bubble machine for a picture with our missing teeth. Adventuring the mall as we wander to the arcade where the little rides and claw machines captivate our attention, ecstatic that my friend’s dad gave us a little bit of money to play, we barely notice the claw machine dropped the stuffed animal that we were adamant on adding to my collection.

Rewind 16 years ago: Hello Kitty Birthday Cake. That is all I remember.

Lately I’ve been finding myself hardcore reminiscing on the days of dripping ice cream and missing teeth. Like, what gives to be a kid running around, whose biggest worry is whether her mom will let her have a soda and who she will play with on the playground at recess on Monday. Seems like the dream. Memories like the ones above are not “big events” nor are they really that significant, but these are the little things I find myself waning back onto whenever I have even a moment to swim in my nostalgia.

I LOVE swimming in my nostalgia.

Dreaming about moments that seemed tranquil and perfect, and memories I wish I could relive. I have a million different stories that are so generic, straight out of every cringey teen movie, as do we all.

Trust me, my life isn’t that interesting. Yet somehow, I can be entertained for hours looking at pictures and videos and playlists that I made when I was twelve and wanted to be quirky. Hyper fixating on my odd sense of style and how I could have possibly thought my hair looked good in pigtails every. single. day. Picking out the people in the background who were somehow important characters of that time yet have absolutely no significance in my life today is like reliving the days that held completely different stories and might I say it: vibes. The best part is finding a lost gem and reconnecting with friends I haven’t spoken to in years, just to find out how much our lives have changed and how they’ve gone on to do completely unexpected things. As people’s Instagram pages gradually change, they represent a new version of themselves, a version that some people are unfamiliar with. The person I knew was a person of the past that I can never get again. i enjoy reminiscing on the days the bullies were nice. It turns out, our “best friends forever” weren’t really forever, but they sure did make for some really magical experiences. Pictures are the medicine to my nostalgia because they’re proof the memories actually existed and they’re like pins on a Detective board, piecing together how we somehow ended up where we did.

Listening to my friend’s memories, trying to understand stories and make sense of plots with people I don’t know or listening to my parents’ stories, in perpetual disbelief that they had cool lives before I even existed (My Dad biked all the way across the US!) creates this insane complexity. All of our nostalgia comes from completely different places. Maybe I’m just reading into it way too much but leave me be because it’s really amazing.

The distinct aroma of Elmers glue and goldfish from my first-grade classroom, and the smell of the crimson track that held miles and miles of pain and anticipation,

and the taste of a shitake mushroom that brings me back to the cold winter nights when my mom made my favorite dish, and the view of Lake Conway that reminds me of tubing with my cousins when we were barely able to swim. Imagining the salty breeze against my sandy face, toasty from the hours spent in the sun and my friend and I’s sore throats from belting The Kid Laroi, driving back from Disney Springs in the dark, illuminated by the city lights. Places, aromas, feelings, emotions are all memories that hold a feeling that is inexplainable.

I’ve come to find out that none of these intangible stories come with negativity. They’re all doused in peace and happiness, and although the broken friendships and drives home could have been the “worst days of my life”, I seem to really only remember the parts that I want to. The parts where we’re kneeling over in laughter after telling stories. I romanticize the night drives in the drizzling rain, bawling my eyes out as I go buy skinny cow ice cream sandwiches. The parts that are perfect for my personal coming of age movie! *insert chef’s kiss*

This whole post is kind of sounding like a Tumblr quote with an infinity sign in the background.

Peace, love, nostalgia.

The thing is,

I don’t feel the stress I was actually experiencing while I made these memories

I don’t remember the fights I had leading up to the days I spent on the beach.

I don’t remember every bad shot I hit during a golf tournament.

The tears that were shed after I said goodbye to friends after going home are much more distant than the embrace of their arms when we reunite after months of separation.

Being scolded for not washing my hands; Far away from the memories of peeling rutabagas for my dad and I’s famous root dish while listening to Michael Bublé on full volume. A true Epiphany.

I find myself longing to go back to the days that seemed “simpler” but I’ve kind of caught myself and realized the past seems a lot more perfect after you are no longer living it. Which basically means, about a week from now, today is going to look freaking amazing! No day was really much simpler than today, they just had their own set of issues and sometimes the nostalgia comes with a lesson learned. The days of broken hearts create armor that makes you stronger than the day before. The stories, protection, and knowledge from the reminiscence of the past are like a pathway to creating a more exciting and fulfilling future.

Anyways, if you can romanticize yesterday, why can’t you romanticize today, and tomorrow, and the next day after that? Today’s the only opportunity we have to make the memories meant to be created today (this sounds so cliche) so take lots of pictures and smile as much as possible… or don’t, because some days aren’t meant for smiles. But fill your time with little moments that’ll make you grin while you’re daydreaming during your 8 AM next week.

Everything can be killed except nostalgia for the kingdom, we carry it in the color of our eyes, in every love affair, in everything that deeply torments, and unties, and tricks.

Julio Cortazar