 We live through and leave behind a lifetime full of yesterdays. One after the other until the end. There are so many of them that only exist in my mind and in the pages of my journal that I wish I could dive right back into: a lake house full of friendship, Easter at my friend's parent's house, living with my person. I could look back on those yesterdays for the rest of my life and be blissfully, ignorantly content, but I'd be stuck. Probably forever. Pretty soon, my tomorrows will seem more daunting and more urgent. Life will speed up until all I'll have to remember my best of times will be the words I scribbled down when I found a free moment. I'm not looking forward to the potential of losing time to reflect. I like to think about who I was yesterday because I don't know who I'll be tomorrow. Looking back, I get to pick the best parts and remember them and tweak them until they're perfect. Stories full of love and laughter with no bad parts in between. Something to hold on to when today isn't great. Too many people in my life tell me I daydream too much, but I'm not dreaming and even if I was, there is no such thing. Well, maybe there is, but I don't need to be reminded because I can stop whenever I want, thank you very much. Dwelling on the past is terrible because you want to change it, remembering the past is beautiful because it makes you want for a better today and a better tomorrow and a long stream of perpetually improving yesterdays. The future holds too many things for me to think about and too many things that I don't need to waste my time worrying about. The yesterdays are what keep me moving forward because I want more. More conversations over pizza and a fireplace, more road trips spent in comfortable silence, more stolen cigarettes with new friends. Yesterday I was happy and tomorrow I will be, too. Inspired by The Wandering People:
Who were you yesterday? |
