Nostalgia

It's a funny old thing. Since returning to my old stomping grounds in uni, I've been thinking about how it was the first time around. Train journeys are ideal for reflection. Mostly my thoughts have been returning to past relationships. It's not so much the guys involved, just how I felt and stuff.

Like two of us all squashed up in a single bed, being kissed between my shoulder blades before I fell asleep, playful teasing, handholding, stealing kisses when you thought no one was looking, being told I was pretty, feeling desired.

What my mind and memories tend to gloss over the discomfort of sharing a single bed, having someone lie on my long hair and wake me up, not so playful teasing, the paralysing self doubt and obsession about my appearance, my inability to take compliments at face value, and worrying about not be desired.

Like I said, nostalgia. It's a funny old thing.