Coming home can be a painful experience. A reminder of the people you were once inseparably close to, how much fun you once had and how carefree you once were.
Each time whilst travelling home I get this hopeful feeling. It’s almost a childish naivety, in believing that they’ll all be waiting at the door for you, unchanged, and dying to see you. But the truth is, people don’t wait for you to come back to live their lives. They change, they move apart and move on.
It can be a sad thought and is often followed with a highlight reel of all the good times with a rose tinted lens. Maybe then indulging yourself in the thought that it was better then, than now.
In the end you come to the realisation that time travel isn’t possible and this is usually the defining moment where the fork in the road appears.
On the left side of the fork is a train station and the train of thought (see what I did there :P) here is that those were the good times and they will never be topped.
Then on the right side of the fork is a path, a path filled with uncertainty and an end that is out of sight. Venturing down this path requires the belief that those were the good times and yet, there could be better times.
The right side of the fork is the harder route to take but it is the more optimistic and in my opinion the more worthwhile.
So the next time you’re dwelling in a pit of nostalgia like I was recently, just take a second glance at the fork in the road and run right!
Thomas Duggan 