Maybe...
Maybe, just maybe, I was really happy. And I didn’t even know it. Back in my childhood, maybe I had a little taste of happiness, but since I was just a kid, I didn’t notice it. Back then, I used to escape into dreams, and because of that, I kinda stopped living in the moment. I’m saying this because now, 20 years later, I can look back at some moments and realize I didn’t enjoy them the way I should have. But that’s just how I see it now. I don’t really remember feeling hurt during those times, so maybe my younger self lived them the best way he knew how. And I don’t blame him. He did what he could, with what he had.
Now, 20 years later, I feel like that kind of happiness from back then isn’t coming back. Maybe because it’s a different kind of happiness now—but it doesn’t feel the same... I’m probably being unfair and a bit ungrateful. And that’s okay. I’m not perfect. Maybe what I’m feeling is just nostalgia.
Nostalgia for a time that won’t come back. That I can’t recreate. But maybe I can make things better now, be more present. So my future self won’t be left wondering what my present self was feeling... full of regrets.
