Nostalgia is a funny word,
an ugly word even, the kind
of ugly you don’t notice right
away - only in small, recurring
doses - the kind that gets
harder to look at day
by day.

I’m not one for regrets but
if I was, I’d regret all the times
I’ve chosen memory over change.

Sometimes it seems worth it, sure,
sometimes my memories are all
that keeps me warm at night and
it’s the only way to fall asleep
but sometimes, I remember
your laugh and I wonder if
I’ll still love it the same
in the morning;

Do I even still remember it the same?

Did I ever really love it at all?

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