I’ve been feeling hella nostalgic lately.
With one high school best friend’s pending nuptials next month and another high school best friend coming home early from the military last week, I just have a lot of feelings. I feel old and young at the same time. I am definitely not the same person I was seven years ago… or even a year ago. But I’m not quite sure about who I’ve become. It’s all very meta and very existential.
Last night, a big group of us got together for dinner at Downtown Disney. It was a pseudo-homecoming celebration for my friend who just got out of the Air Force. Even though he just got home, he leaves for a contract job in Afghanistan soon. Sitting around a table with people I literally grew up with as we talked about college, relationships, jobs, and traveling over beers was so surreal. I was trying to be in the moment and enjoy it all. But it was also a lot to process.
I still have very distinct memories from high school. But also, those times are not as vivid as they used to be. I can remember events and jokes and milestones. But I don’t remember details anymore. I’m starting to forget people’s names. It’s weird, this whole growing up thing. This whole memory thing. My memories are probably the most important thing to me. I attribute this to being/wanting to be a writer. My memories are a huge source of my material and inspiration.
So what happens when I stop remembering?