I am there but not there. I will sometimes think of the happiest times in my life, all of which seem behind me now, and be both thrown back into them like I'm in the cruelest of time machines and then thrust back here with what feels like a hard slap to the face.
Sometimes they are specific dates: October 31, 1989, November 19, 1997, June 17, 2016.
Other times they are more like sets of times: the Fall of 1988 through the Spring of 1990
or all of the late 90s, starting with January of 1997 until the beginning of 2000.
The happiness of some memories can overwhelm me so much I fill up...I tried to rewatch Ally McBeal once but couldn't because my recollections of that original time are so sharp and joyful and wonderful that, contrasted with the hell that life feels like now, it just hurts too damn much.
It's the weirdest thing: I've come to realize that I can rewatch the shows that got me through horrible times in the past with much delight, but I can't rewatch the shows that aired during times I was so full of life and hope (and something else I can't define) I floated off the ground.
To think that my flashbacks of the best of times sting so much more than my flashbacks of the worst of times...I just don't get that.
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