pain-filled grip of the past

"It's not the person refusing to let go of the past but the past refusing to let go of the person."

i feel nostalgia brushing her cold fingers across the palms of my hands, my forehead, the back of my neck

goosebumps cover every inch of my body as she grips my arms, refusing to let go

she whispers old memories, haunting me with memories of her, them, him, me. 

she tells me it will never be the same, and she isn't lying

part of me thinks it might be better now, but her angry voice convinces me otherwise.

she tells me of the good times too, 

the ones where i used to run around in the grass barefoot, singing and dancing terribly, a cold, purple otterpop in my little hand

she reminds me of the times when my hair was barely long enough to touch my shoulders, and i smile, remembering how my mom loved to style it 

nostalgia, that jerk, she doesn't know what this does to me...

she fills my mind with images of my grandpa, his insane tan and his welcoming smile

i can't remember the last time i made our "famous" colored pancakes, and i don't know if i will ever make them again

she wipes the imaginary tears from my face as i reminisce about the time i fell off my bike and scraped my knee

i touch the spot as if it is still bleeding.

she doesn't always tell me about the happy times, though.

her voice describes the times of imense pain, the suffering,

i can practically hear myself crying myself to sleep after a particularly painful, long day at school

i was so young, too young to feel so empty, so unloved.

i had no reason. my parents loved me, i had friends (though not always good ones), i was healthy... but for some reason i couldn't shake that feeling

the feeling of immense dread, grief, loss.

everything i did felt programmed and forced.

and then came him, and everything after.

she scolds me, telling me not to even think of him.

she whispers in a harsh tone, warning me not to walk down memory lane.

she warns me as she tells me of the bad decisions i have made in the past few years, how i've allowed myself to become so weak, so idiotic.

she reminds me every day of how disappointed she is in me, in my choices

she tightens her tight grip on my arms, her nails digging into my skin, drawing blood

"don't you wish you could go back?" she hisses. "well you wasted it all, no going back now." she shakes me hard.

sometimes i do wish i could go back, but right now is so perfect. i'm so happy for once, it's been such a long time since i felt this free...

nostalgia refuses to let go, and maybe that is a good thing,

but when the present is the happiest moment i have lived in a while, i need her to leave, to be less.

i break myself from her grasp. i still need her, just to remember the good times, but today was the day i decided to ignore nostalgia. 

just for now, when i feel most free.