Aren’t memories a strange thing? I’ll never understand how something deeply rooted in my subconcious mind…something forgotten about for years…can suddenly spring forth, fresh and clear as if it happened just yesterday.

I find myself feeling this a lot lately. Moving away somehow took away a lot of the little reminders. There are so many things from the past…things that I did, places I went, people I knew…that I haven’t thought about in forever. Now, being back, I am inundated with memories. Some of them are beautiful. I can’t believe I let myself forget.

But some of them…some of them are ugly. Some of them are things I was glad to forget about. Some of them are things I intentionally pushed away. Thoughts I didn’t want to have anymore. Pieces of my life I’d like to discard. And although I am grateful for the ability to learn from my mistakes, it would be so much nicer if I could just learn from them and move on…never looking back. Somehow it doesn’t seem to work that way.

People say you can never go home again. I disagree. Without the ability to go back home I don’t know where I’d be. But there are parts of it that will never be the same. The worst part though…is the parts that are all too familiar.