Miscellany

nostalgia.

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Nostalgia; (noun) A bittersweet yearning for the things of the past.

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Somewhere between a simple "Can I borrow your pencil?" and a hurried "TTYL", we grew up.

Somewhere between beyblade battles during recess and the exchange of harsh words, we fell apart.

Somewhere between scribbled test answers crammed on an eraser, being passed down from one helper to the other, and the numerous unanswered texts, we stopped trying.

Somewhere between playing truth or dare in sixth grade and declaring our love at 16, we drifted away.

Somewhere between the transition from orkut to facebook, we became strangers.

Right now, I just stumbled across a picture of us, all of us, in our 11 year old glory and I can remember all your names, regardless of how less we interacted. I remembered the boy standing on the far left corner of the top row, as well as I remember the name of the one smack in the middle of the bottom row.

I stare and stare and stare some more and can't help but wonder where you all are, how you all are. Of some, I know the answer for.

The rest are simply a case of out of sight, out of mind.

Damn! We grew up, didn't we? We went from troublesome handfuls to independent adults, driven by our passion, our thirst to reach our goals, focused on our careers.

We made so many friends, embossed so many new faces into our memories, gave our hearts to so many new people that we merely forgot all about those who we left behind.

We never thought of them until now. Now, when an old name from our extensive friend's list off of facebook just so happened to share a picture and tag you, and me, and all the other 23 of our class fellows.

You're nothing but a stranger now but it's simply astounding how just a tag on a shared picture is enough to bring us all back together. You liked and commented, just as I did, just as he did, just as she did.

But just staring at a picture while the ache in my heart grew unbearable was simply not enough. I called her up then, my support system through these 15 years when I lost you, when I lost him, when I lost her.

And together, for an hour and fifteen minutes, all we did was reminisce those memories that all of us left for dust. We talked about life and how it has a penchant for pulling one forward so fast that at that current moment, everything's a blur...

Until you stop to breathe and the memories tumble down on you like an avalanche and you can't breathe anymore because the pain in your chest is squeezing your lungs too hard and the tears involuntarily start stinging your eyes.

So as I lay there, the cordless phone pressed to my ear while the other held my cellphone containing a picture of us, I couldn't help tearing up as I stopped to breathe.

For somewhere between asking each other for a pencil and not recognizing one another, we grew up.

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