Sometimes you still think about something that once made you smile, or made you laugh, or gave you butterflies - right? And it's over, and it's done, but you still get that warm sensation as before, just with an added under-tone of nostalgia. You think about the memory / then the feeling from the memory / then you sort of feel the feeling.
It's not the same as dwelling on the past. It's just remembering. And just remembering is okay.
The last few months have taught me something about remembering, though. Those things that we pluck from our jumbled mind-jars of memorandum, to brighten our less-than-alright days, only do any brightening if the thing in the remembering was real. I don't mean "real" as in "really happened". I mean "real" - as in lasting and lie-free.
Rememberings riddled with falseness and fable don't do me any good, anymore.
The only way to get over that stage is to realize how different you are now and decide that you want to live again. It's not an easy decision to make because it involves committing not to remember the way you used to. I love you, Ellie Elizabeth.
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