Nostalgic Tendencies

This past Sunday, as the day dimmed from afternoon to dusk, I drove south on the CA-101 to get back to Los Angeles (and rendezvous with three pals for Great Gatsby). I couldn't help but continually look back, via both my rearview and side mirrors, at the gorgeous sunset behind me. I knew it was important to focus on the road, of course; however, I simply sneaked a few glimpses of admiration toward the macaroni yellow hues filling the entire sky in my backward view.

Suddenly, the expression dawned on me: Our windshield is larger than the rearview mirror for a reason. Why is it that I'm someone constantly compelled to look back, linger for what are perhaps several moments too many? I'm always always doing it: whether reminiscing the current day just passed as the sun sets, or perusing pictures from last weekend's trip, last night's adventures. It's what we do all day, on social media platforms like Instagram, do we not? I said recently that I write to taste life twice; I suppose we also tweet to experience life both twice over, and also vicariously through others.

Today, my Instagram feed is occupied by graduation caps and gowns as my younger peers at USC finally get ready to "commence." Exactly two years ago, on a fine Friday morning in May like this one, I did that. I completed my era as a true Trojan (though I'll be one for life). I can't believe it. One year ago last past week, I both signed into one of my first adult contracts and bought a car, and signed my heart over to the first guy that I truly trusted and let my guard down to. Fittingly, I went and watched the Dodgers on the exact night that the two of did in 2012, as our first date, but this time next to my Mom in the Top Deck. We drank Blue Moon, cracked sunflower seeds, and instead of lamenting former memories in that stadium... we made a new one. 

It's okay to be sad, for a while longer. There should be nothing wrong with occasional and momentary remembrance of what once was, what was once yours and great and fun. Right now, I'll allow myself to do it. But then, it will be time to embrace the future ahead of me. Starting with tomorrow now. I want to continue to dream of the glowing full moon approaching in the coming night, while I bid a fond farewell to the setting sun each evening. I want to focus on what's in store, and plan and dream. Primarily, though, I want to look up and around and soak it all in.

As Richard told Liz in Eat Pray Love, if I miss him: that's alright. It's inevitable, really. But what I must do is miss him, wish him well. And then let it pass. Send a little love that way, sure. But I can't continue to envision a future that is both not likely, and since I can't be a definitive judge of what's to come... also not yet existent, if it ever will be. [He] was a lovely part of my young adult life in the past year, and will perhaps be in my life again and moreso at the right time. However, there are so many other things available and present and happening to me that I need to remember my commitment, in spirit and even in ink (!) to live in the present. To DO, and not simply reminisce, or lament. Can I spare a few moments, a few lines, to do that in the evenings? Of course. But embrace and exude the pain, Cory, so that it will manifest and pass.

Is it that I'm sad we'll never do the things we planned? I see now that it may be that I'm sad we were never going to do the things that I wanted anyway. Take The Great Gatsby the other night. I asked myself, was the pinch deep in my heart because of the memory of when we laid on my bed and read the first chapter together? It is because I wonder whether I'll be like Jay, or Daisy, and regret the time that's passed? Or is it because I envision that as the future-me, but know it won't be the case?

As this weekend approaches, I anticipate an entire family reunion and a new slew of adventures in Santa Barbara. I'll watch my sister perform for one of her last times, of whom I am unspeakably proud. The weekend will be a little bit different than what I once imagined, but I am now realizing that an hours-long coastal road trip (twice), countless laughs, outbursts of family karaoke and who knows what else is going to make it quite a weekend. Come what may.