The past and memories.

I used to be able to view the past and apply it positively to the present, whether it be a lesson to learn or simply cherishing that I've already had a beautiful life. Lately, certain good memories are too much to bear.

The other day, I woke up unhappy. I didn't know why nor did I try to figure out why. I just felt it. While at work, I was making some mocha (one of those mundane tasks that allow you to get lost in thought), and revisited a memory of a beautiful girl I "had" once. A girl I connected with and got myself emotionally invested in. Someone I allowed myself to be vulnerable to. I almost cried. It seemed like a fantasy, a dream. It was a life I once lived but didn't matter because I no longer lived it. It's so strange how the past can sometimes feel like it never happened at all. Foreign. Memories like this feel like they are stored away in an ice-case and sent off to drift away forever. Nowadays, I don't feel the warmth of the past, just the bleak reality of its absence.

I'm sure all this will pass sometime. 'Till then.