Donāt look back in anger ā A realization that occurs once one is old enough to realize that what you once called some of the worse moments of your life were actually pretty damn
awesome.
All the times you got your heart broken; and, all of the lovers you used to complained about to your
friends while imbibing your favorite ācomplaint inducing drug of choiceā were actually some of the greatest
people you ever met during the most
amazing part of your life.
And actually, your heart wasnāt really even really broken yet. That only happens when facing old age, sickness, and
death and watching your
friends and frenemies drop like The Ten Little Indians in the now politically incorrect childhood song.
Everything that has come before was like stretching before a long runā¦
ā¦which feels like a too short of a run when you get to this part of the road. Nostalgia isnāt remembering the past; itās living in the present as an echo of who you once were.
And if you donāt know what Iām talking about; then donāt worry.
You will.
Donāt look back in anger. There is something worse than a lover who drives you
crazy; and thatās having no lover at all. Thereās something worse than being catcalled on the street by construction workers; and that being invisible to the
people who pass you by. Itās
like the man who said: āI used to complain about my missing finger until I met a man who lost his hand.ā I used to complain about my yesterdays until I started running out of tomorrows.
