Nostalgia

Memories are strange creatures. I say creatures because they seem to have their own lives and free will. It seems that our brains will store only selective ones and those ones will be manipulated to be a certain way, so that things either seem much brighter or much darker than they really were, depending on our moods and emotions and many other things I guess, things we have no conscious control over.

I saw a college friend tonight, my first college friend, in fact, freshman year roommate. We haven't seen each other in more than 3 years, which makes me feel strange - I don't want to say old because that would not be accurate, it's just odd that 3 years can go by without seeing someone I was once so close with. Oh, how different we were back then! So naive and young and bright-eyed, going through so many changes, expecting so much! Just seeing her brought back so many memories, not just from college, from fencing, but memories in general; things I haven't thought about for some time. I guess once those "memory neurons" get triggered, there is no stopping, a bunch of connections get all fired up and all of a sudden, I am in a daze, thinking of the "old" times: first homecoming with beer games, then throwing up in the shower the next morning before packing hot-dogs and finding out what the difference between fencing and football really was. Crazy weekends away at fencing tournaments, sneaking around in hotel hallways and rooms, trying to steal a few minutes alone with that special someone - or at least that someone I thought was special. Running through the summer rain by Lake Michigan. Packing up a whole year of life in a few minutes to disappear before the trainers can take a sample of my hair. A long car-ride from New York to Chicago in a horrible snow-storm. Thanksgivings in Kansas, winters in Chicago and then more recent memories. Last year's Halloween in Boston. Frustrations of an injury and then pushing through to complete the ultimate goal: the marathon. More injuries this year and no marathon. Tomorrow, when 43000 people run past on 1st Ave, I will be standing in Central Park, near the finish line, making sure that people find their friends and families, that nobody collapses because they are dehydrated. It's been difficult seeing people walk around the city wearing their cool marathon shirts and overhearing conversations about which colored corral they are going to be starting in tomorrow. Maybe next year...

And then there was a memory, more vivid than any other one, just popping into my mind without any warning or forethought, caught me by surprise. I was back a year ago, in a room just barely lit, sitting on the edge of a big bed, talking about "Henry and June", about whether we are destined to spend our entire lives with one person, about whether one person can satisfy us in every way, discussing philosophical questions which had no right answers. I was there again, naive and excited, until I felt that hand on my shoulder, that slight pull, his lips touching mine, the rush, the adrenaline, the surprise. Memories blending together, an intoxicated night, sitting on his lap, maybe the same room, maybe a different life all together. Emotions deeply hidden being released, tears and laughs, but I can't remember why. I just remember a feeling, of incredible sadness and longing, even as he was holding me in his arms. Because I knew that it was the last time maybe, and today, after trying so hard to forget, I was there again, in that room. Or was I ever there, did it even really happen? Memories can be false, out brains can play nasty tricks on us, that's nostalgia Don't be fooled!