It seems like every day now, a part of me wishes to go back. Go back to simpler times, go back to happier places.
I’m wistful for my childhood—unfettered and exciting—a place filled with dreams as sweet as cotton candy and troubles as light as fluffy clouds.
The single thing on my mind was the dramatic play that I imagined so vividly that it came to life. It is comprised of a cast full of fluffy toys, adventuring around the world and enriching their magical lives.
And at the end of the day, when my mum and dad would pull me away from my play, I would dream of stars and skies; the one place I knew how to fly.
Those were the days when my friends and I were not told we were too old to play tag or roll around in mud. Where sleepovers were a thrilling occurrence, a night filled with nail polish and the Hollywood box office.
For those warm summer nights, we’d play Ghosts in The Graveyard, Light’s Out Hide and Seek, and Sardines. Monopoly and Uno had winners who reigned supreme, making us play late into the night, trying to make them renounce their victories.
In the fall, I’d spend days planning for Halloween. Every day leading up to the scary holidays was spent working on my costumes, planning routes, and binging horror movies. Sometimes, I would wind up haggling with my friends and family to stay out a little longer so I could collect more candy.
Their colors are oh-so-beaming and beautiful against the upcoming night. I want to go back, but I know I can’t.
And in winter, for those times when the snow would fall, my mind wouldn’t be thinking about roads or windshields covered in ice; instead, I would be sledding, licking icicles, and making tiny snow angels.
Those days seem so far away now, like the sun on the horizon, bleeding away till I can no longer see them. Their colors are oh-so-beaming and beautiful against the upcoming night. I want to go back, but I know I can’t.
So, instead, I chose to remember why I wanted to go back. For the simpler times, for those comfy days of childhood, when everything just seemed so easy.
I choose to reminisce about those younger days, whether or not they were good or bad, because it gives me a piece of myself back. A piece of myself, a small and innocent piece, which still has hope for the world and what the future holds.
