Thinking about media that I have lost. About things that I just can't engage with anymore, but nonetheless shaped the core of who I am today. Media that shook me to my foundation that I just cannot come back to anymore.
Thinking about Skyrim, which had me in awe back in high school, quite possibly being the decisive moment that solidified a love for games that follows me to this day. And yet now I look back on it and cannot see the wonder, cannot see past the shortcomings, cannot bring myself to enter that world again.
Thinking about The Name of the Wind, a book that blew me away on my first read, but as I read the second book in the series and reread the first, I found myself drifting away from it. Some of my favorite prose out there is still in that book, the prologue in particular is a masterpiece I still get chills reading, but it's no longer up there with my favorite books simply because other parts of the story have fallen flat for me on further reflection. And here I am, missing the love I once had.
Thinking about Outer Wilds, easily one of my favorite games of all time, and yet something that I can never truly experience again. Of course one can never return to that first magical experience with any story, but Outer Wilds in particular stands out in that regard, an experience of pure discovery, learning and exploring through a playground of secrets both grand and small, heartwarming and deeply tragic. I can't go back to a time where I do not know those secrets, and so am left with naught but the memories.
Thinking about Sky: Children of the Light. Oh, darling, wondrous Sky. You were everything for a time. Every day I would jump into your world and find peace in the music and the feeling. I did the quests, followed the events, and most importantly... I spent time with friends. I met some of the most wonderful people in the world because of this beautiful game, friends who I cherish on to today, some of my closest confidants and companions in this strange world we wander. And yet I just cannot become lost in those skies anymore. I can't find it in me to chase those daily quests and only find myself logging in every now and again to find some ambience. Sky has brought me to tears with its beauty so many times before and now... The spark is gone.
I think about a piece of fanfiction I may never be able to find again. A story about a Nuzlocke challenge run that I wandered into just as I was starting to look into the incredible community behind that challenge. A story I can't remember the name of, that I can't remember the author of, that I can hardly recall much about at all these years later... A story set in a post-apocalyptic Kanto, probably based on Firered... So much is lost from my mind, but I know that story opened a door for me. It taught me about what a piece of fanfiction could be, something wild and unusual and totally my own. It wasn't long before I stumbled upon the Nuzlocke forums and started writing a story myself.
Did I ever tell the author their story changed my life forever? Inspired me to start writing and oops now my greatest creative accomplishments are my long running nuzlocke stories and I'm part of the community and...
I don't think I did.
It hurts to think I never told that author how meaningful their story was to me. That I've lost the opportunity to just let them know that hey I enjoyed this thing and... Now it's gone.
It hurts that I can't go back to all these things that once brought me joy, that once shaped the person I was and would become. It feels in a way like I have lost a part of myself, only able to feel the impact of the thing yet never again able to take hold of it.
Perhaps all I'm really feeling is that age-old yearning for days past, chasing memories of joy while the complexities of the moment batter at my door. Even still, I think that in that nostalgia there is a real sadness that ought to be seen and understood, just like any other feeling. Some part of me cries out for moments past, and I ought to sit down and bear that longing, if only so I can hold that sadness close, whisper gently that new stories will come, and let it go.
