I just got home from my first music festival experience with Fiji Bear. He sponsored the ticket since he knew I like one of the performers, which was very generous. The other day, he also surprised me with a phone charger since he realized I usually forget to bring mine over when I spend time at his place. Weeks ago, I was given a new hand santizer bottle after I complained that I lost it for the infinity time. I feel thankful for those little caring gestures that he makes everyday.
Whenever I came home, lying in bed, this nostalgic feeling took over. My mind started to travel back to my childhood, things we used to do as kids, how my family was, and how I was. And then I remembered the feeling when I was on my first backpacking trip with my first boyfriend: when I was enjoying everything, the new town, new food, new people, I missed it at the same time, and I kept on picturing going back to this place when I was older, wandering in town alone, without him and reminiscing the old days. The feeling I have now is exactly like that.
I think about when my parents are no longer alive, when things have passed and I’m the only one left. My sister is going away, to live in another continent next week and her presence absent is something that I’m not used to. I’m not gonna get married to a woman and have kids. My singer/song writer dream hasn’t come true yet and it looks more uncertain as days go by. What will be my legacy?
And my man now, and my past lovers, my boys, someday they might be gone too. What’s left of the story? Will I turn out to be a bitter lonesome man, with my broken guitar singing unfinished tunes like Alan once said? Will I still be in town walking alone, thinking about the old days with him and with them?