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Moving

Moving

Nostalgia sneaks up on you. One moment you're having a Thursday, the next your eyes are bleary, and you think of what was and what might never be again.

While you can feel nostalgic any time, reminiscing on days past, puffing on a pipe on your sunset-lit porch, at least for me, nostalgia wells up when things shift. Moving to a new place, ending a relationship, graduating,... The movement is what sends ripples through memory.

Nostalgia is the gentle-waved disturbance in the wake of a boat. It's the half-blank page at end of a chapter. It's the river one must wade through to go from the familiar to the unfamiliar. And should one take an accidental mouthful, it's ever so slightly salty.

I think that is all I have to say on the subject at the moment. I'm still young and I'm not nostalgic often.

But today, I am. Today, one chapter ends and another starts. Today, it's Thursday, and I'm moving.