nostalgia

“Ah, no nostalgia hurts as much as nostalgia for things that never existed!”
—Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

I don't know if this is true. On one hand, does it even count as nostalgia if you've never had it? On the other hand, I certainly know what Pessoa might be gesturing towards. I too, had glimpses and ghosts of things and people I could have "had", yet they could not quite make it into the definitive realm called existence. These things I indeed have great nostalgia about, if it can be called as such. But I personally do not count them so. They are usually too diluted with fantasy and falsity to qualify for true, grounded nostalgia.

Nostalgia is a gritty thing. Not light on its feet nor painted over with too-bright colors. Everything is as is. All the unpleasant details. The smoke in the room the first time you poured your heart out. The chilling raindrops that fuzzed your vision after a homecoming. The melting makeup at the end of the night when you get your heart's desires. All of these you remember, and here's where nostalgia's sucker punch's going to get you: despite all that, all the smoke and the messiness and the imperfections, you still want those moments back, blemishes and all.

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