Searching for lost time

I have a very bad relationship with my own past. Not because anything particularly terrible happened in it, but because it’s something that has gone and won’t come back.

I suffer badly from nostalgia, a little-recognised medical complaint with melancholy, regret and rose-tinted thinking being the main symptoms.

So much time has passed, that cannot reoccur, which seems somewhat obvious to state, I realise.

Now, the more positive among you might say – “well, given that you are currently, this moment, living in your soon-to-be past, why don’t you relish it now before it gets away, then live with no regrets?” which is an excellent point. Well done.

However, it’s like having your nose pressed up to a masterpiece – you simply can’t appreciate it for its beauty and its flaws until you’re stood far enough away.

By which time, you’re too far away to touch it.

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