Anemoia - Nostalgia for a time or a place one has never known

I have always lived my life with half a heart . As if I gave up the other half a long time ago somewhere I can't even remember .. Was it somewhere ? Someone ? Or even something ? Uhhhh I'm not sure.

When you walk around losing pieces of yourself everywhere you go will there be any left at the end of the road ? . I have always wondered why did I turn out this nostalgic . Why does it always hurt so much to let go of anything even the things that weren’t even mine to keep . Why couldn’t I ever just . fully . let . go ? . Why do I keep piles of old grocery receipts , cinema tickets , old playlists , empty cans , worn out purses , fading Polaroids , half burnt vinyls , unfinished voice notes , out of date sugar packets , a paragraph 14 year old me wrote when she got her first heartbreak , wrecked Barbies and teddy bears ? Why do I recognise the scents of the places I used to be more than I can recognise my own ? Why am I always drowning in a sea of things I grasp on so hard for dear life ? What am I scared of huh ? Maybe I'm scared if I ever let go I'll lose all the parts of myself I have poured into them ? The pieces of my heart they’re bound to keep forever. Or maybe it's because I'm scared I'll forget .. or be forgotten ? Whatever . It's just that sometimes I think it's not fair to walk around carrying so much weight and junk, I mean hearts don’t have cellars or garages you know ? everything is floating in togetherness ..

it must be really heavy down there .. It's like tying a bird to a tetherball .. no matter how far you go you’ll always fall back to the very same spot where you abandoned those bits of your soul ... to where everything feels familiar , taunting , and endlessly haunting … and yes yes I do know ! it could be endearing to be an overflowing ball of mush and emotions . When you overthink, over-feel, over-care ,over-remember, over-plan , over-give. over-love . But isn't it too much at some point ? Those times when being an obsessively sensational person fires back at you shaping your days into longing that hurts more than it could ever heal . I have often wondered if this is all part of the great nostalgia scheme; if it all goes back to the very same tether ball, as if losing half of your heart magnifies the other . When I think about it I can't help but wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse in disguise. If I had the choice would I choose to be this way ? Would I choose to record everything cause I eternally panic at the thought of having to let go of the moment so instead as the moments quietly yet quickly flee I try to capture snippets and bits of this and that hoping that having parts of what has slipped away tucked safe and sound in the pile of frozen memories will keep me safe ? A consolation prize for when the longing ever gets too much . I’ll have something to caress and remember ?

But then, If the very meaning of nostalgia is wistful yearning for something that's in the past how can one feel nostalgia for the anonymous ? the unrecognizable ? the not yet ? .. The place where they belong but never been to ? the family they never had ? The Love .. that lights you up in the darkest places .. Would I actually know it if I see it ? Or better yet , If I feel it?. But then I remember something .. Do I even want to ? Or would it be some other thing that’s bound to take what's left of my heart ?... will it also linger like the lyrics of the song I used to love in 5th grade ? Like a background music I never asked for ? Or maybe for once. Just for once . Stays … Holds on . Not . Let . Go ..