I am the most nostalgic person I know.
That is, of course, besides my cousin Devan.

Devan is pretty much my best friend. He is one of three people who know absolutely everything about me and he's the least judgemental person I know. He always makes me laugh and has been through a lot of the same stuff I have, so he always seems to understand. And I love that about him.

I talked to Devan on the phone today for almost two hours. The majority of that time was spent talking about the way things used to be. We have this generic term- "the good days"- that we refer to when we talk about when we were little. "The good days" means the days before all the aunts on my mom's side of the family (my mom, Aunt Jenni, and Aunt Robin) got divorced. Whenever this comes up in conversation, we automatically know exactly what the other person is talking about: hammocks, Grease, barbies, tea parties, christmas, biscuits, bikes, crushed ice, rolling down the stairs, slapping Emily in the back, walking up town, monopoly, charlie horses, and tarbaby. If anyone other that the cousins on that side of the family heard these things, they would have no idea what hell we were talking about. But that's just it, no one else would ever understand because they weren't there.

Nostalgia is a funny concept. You can spend hours on the phone with your gay cousin talking about how amazing things were when you were eight years old and it makes you happy. But then, the conversation is over and real life sets in and you're not happy anymore; all you want to do is sit in your room and cry about how things aren't the same anymore- how they're never going to be same anymore.

My mom likes to tell me about what I was like when I was little. She says I was a happy, giggly, girl who always claimed to see angels in my room. I always tell her that I was probably lying about the angels, but she swears up and down that I wasn't lying and that children are more perceptive to things like that. I'm still happy for the most part and I laugh all the time, but I don't see angels anymore.

None of this is exactly relevant, but I've just been thinking about things lately.
I just can't seem to accept the fact that when things change,
they'll never be the same again.