I'm going to be 40 next year. I left the town I grew up in 22 years ago, and my home country 11 years ago. Almost everyone from my past is gone, and the ones who weren't gone are drifting [in a different direction than I am - or so it seems]. Everyone who is new is missing the past. They have no background info about how I tick. We share nothing but the present. How can they know me in such a short time? How can I know them?
I feel like I have nothing to hold on to. I slide up and down the the time line and watch the faces roll by. But none of us stops.
I went "home" - although the whole time I was there I referred to Germany as "home"- and all of my homesickness and yearning seemed to dissolve. Not dissolve -> disappear (through fulfillment, for example). Dissolve -> be absorbed into the environment, and myself. They weren't fulfilled at all, just decayed into tiny molecules that could hide among the atoms of everyday. And they're still there.
All of my prospects and memories are trapped in the past. I can't resuscitate them or reanimate them. They are no more. And all the music and dreams that call them are just futile shocks to my soul. I can't go back. I can't pretend to go back for a nanosecond. I can't even visit. The world has become new and and all that I have known and loved exists only in dismembered, scattered drops.
If I were to read this written by someone else, I'd likely tell them to stop whining and move on. But sometimes we are reminded of our losses and it helps to recount and mourn them. Don't you think?