Hakuna Matata

It doesn't matter, its in the past.

The past is a fickle lover. It should sit on the shelf, gleaming from the occasional shine made by the memories it holds, but not disturbed. The past is one of those elusive gems where times look better than they were simply because they represent a time when we were younger, more energetic, and more care free. When revisiting the past we forget about transformations, we forgive transgressions, we relive the 25 second blurb of thought that visits us for only a moment until it is dwarfed by the here and now.

Sometimes, I miss the past. I miss the friends I had, the people I met, those who touched my life. However, the saying "You cant go home again" never rang quite so true as it has today. Not in the sense of a physical home but of that person who I felt at most home with- in my past.
You cant go home again, and I have realised, that I don't really want to.

Now that I have taken Pandora's box o'memory off the shelf and shaken it all around, making a mess of my emotions and caused a leaden pain in my chest. I will force the lid closed and put it up higher this time. Where I cant reach it. Not to be tempted by its shiny exterior again.
Goodbye my friend.