Nostalgia: A sentimental longing or wishful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.
Since the day that I accepted myself to be somewhat of a hopeless romantic, I stopped hiding it and became the sensitive type. I didn’t have many girlfriends through high school, I could have, but didn’t know how to approach/talk to the girls that supposedly thought I was “hot”. I was always told that I was good looking, so I would take the compliment and run with it. It’s weird, when I would get a compliment like that, it would boost my confidence and self-esteem, but not to the point of growing a pair and actually talking to them.
I’ve always tried to fit the stereotype of the typical dude who isn’t afraid of anything and hides his sensitivity, but I just made myself look stupid. It didn’t work for me and so I decided to just embrace my shyness by being myself, not pretending to be some idiot asshole jock douchebag. I was far opposite of being a jock anyway. I didn’t get along with them, they would bully me and some of my friends because we would go to school with red or blue hair and have patches of the bands we loved on our backpack. I remember this one time we were walking down the hall in the morning heading to homeroom and some little shit football player smacked the the books out of my friends hand and said “cool hair, faggot”. And their bitch cheerleader girlfriends were all laughing with them. He stood his ground though. My buddy went up to him and pushed him against the locker and was ready to fight the kid right there. One of the teachers saw the whole thing, right from when he slammed the books out of his hand, ran over to separate the two. They both went to the office, and my friend got suspended for a week while the jock dick got off free. I guess my point I’m trying to make here is how in the fuck could a be attracted to a girl like that who is attracted to bro’s like that?
So lets embrace being a loser. I had a ton of friends and we all had each other. They weren’t as socially awkward as me, but they loved me and felt confident when I was with them. We are still family to this day, 22 years later.
Yes, I was a loser and fucking damn proud of it too. That was how I became a hopeless romantic. Instead of trying to impress a girl every time I would walk past them, I would just smile at them innocently, then just keep walking without looking back. That is just one of many examples of how my new personality came about. I felt like me. This is me. It felt so amazing to just finally be myself. I no longer had to worry about being a loser because I no longer cared. I was surrounded by really good people and eventually I would be introduced to other people, then other people, then other people. If I was introduced to a girl who I thought was really cute and extraordinary cool, I wouldn’t try to hide my shyness, and the types of girls I was into would usually think that it’s adorable how shy I am. And then I became “mysterious”, and THAT was how I would start hanging out with them one on one. We wouldn’t go on a cliche “date” like going to a restaurant or something, we didn’t want to be predictable. Instead, we would just drive around town late at night with our 7-11 coffee and listening to the music that we identified ourselves with in a world we loved, spend an our or so on the beach at 1am, if it was raining we would take our shoes off and run around a golf course at a country club we snuck into in the middle of the night, or sneak into a hotel swimming pool in the middle of the night. We were romantics going on adventures while the rest of New Jersey was sleeping, or while those jock assholes were busy date raping the cheerleaders after killing a 24 pack of miller light. It was an amazing time. I loved being the sensitive guy. The types of girls I was attracted to were apparently attracted to sensitive hopeless romantic guys like me. It just worked. It was raw, authentic, and true. We had big hearts and life was really happening.
On nights that we couldn’t be together, I would get off of work late at night and drive past her house when I knew she was asleep and write a short and simple note to leave under the windshield wiper of her car just so she can have something to smile about when she would leave the house the next day. The note would say something like “hi” or something. Short and sweet.
And that was basically me in my early to mid-20’s (years after high school, obviously).
The older we get, the more we change as people. We mature, adapt, and keep up with life. I have always been a very nostalgic person. And I don’t think there is anything wrong with wanting to be at a different time in our lives while things are going really great in the present. I am 38 now, have two children, and married to the same women for 11 years. I love my wife dearly, but as I said, life goes on and so do we. With the drama our marriage has been facing lately, and the everyday struggles that most families eventually face, I have been very overwhelmed and have been doing a lot of reflecting of my fast and trying to remember that guy who I once was. I miss that guy. As I said, I have always been extremely nostalgic. But I wouldn’t change a thing about my life today in 2019. However, if I could just grab the feeling, emotions, and how we would view the world, and mash that up with the life we have right now and still be mature and keep up with our responsibilities, I believe that we could be a much stronger married couple with sparks in our hearts and butterflies in our bellies. Life would be much, much easier and full of wonder again.
Just the other night as Bonnie was getting ready for work, she had asked me to pack her lunch so she can save some time. I put 2 slices of bread and an avocado in her lunch bag, with a little note that said “hi, I love you. Have a good night 🙂”. I thought it would be a nice little surprise for her while she was on break in the middle of the night at the hospital.
She didn’t see the note.
This morning she grabbed that same lunchbox out of the refrigerator to empty it out. As it turns out, she had a very busy and crazy night in the ER with no time for a break. She saw the note this morning as I was doing the dishes, she said “aww… when did you write this?? aww.. thank you”. And for some reason, my eyes started to rain. I just got super sensitive and had to escape to the other room so my my wife and kids wouldn’t see me cry. I don’t know why I was crying. I was really happy that she loved my note. It was weird. So after this morning, and after seeing and hearing her reaction, I then suddenly felt inspired to write about it.
Be you, be curious, be adventurous, be sensitive, be vulnerable, and be inspired.
It was the first snow of the season
i can almost see you breathin
in the middle of that empty street
Sometimes i still see myself
in that lonesome bedroom
playin my guitar
and singing songs of hope
for a better future
life is
only
as good as the memories we make
and i’m taking back what belongs to me
polaroids of classrooms unattended
these relics of remembrance
are just like shipwrecks
only theyre gone faster
than the smell after it rains
last night while everyone was sleepin
i drove through my old neighborhood
and resurrected memories from ashes
we said that we would never fit in
we were really just like them
does rebellion ever make a difference
life is
only
as good as the memories we make
and im taking back what belongs to me
polaroids of classrooms unattended
these relics of remembrance
are just like shipwrecks
only theyre gone faster
than the smell after it rains
So long, astoria
i found a map to buried treasure
and even if we come home empty handed
we’ll still have our stories
of battle scars, pirate ships and wounded hearts,
broken bones, and all the best of friendships
and when this hourglass
has filtered out
its final grain of sand
i raise my glass to the memories we had
this is my wish
im takin back
im takin them all back
⚡️ The Ataris ⚡️
My Secret Universe 