It's been a moment since I posted a proper thoughtful "Journal," so here one is. Might get a bit heavy, but it's still fine to leave your thoughts at the end if you want.

Time has not been nice to the things I grew up with. The places, people, and things I used to take for granted... that I knew each morning would still be there when I woke up, that--for good or for bad--defined my world for too long, they're largely gone now.

For years, I grew up in a house that, despite frankly being kind of a trash heap, was home and a place of comfort. That home was in a neighborhood with stores down the street that I was familiar with, parks that I played at, and relatives I looked forward to visiting during the holidays. You know, those things just sort of get taken for granted after awhile. But... it turns out, they don't last.

That old home of mine... I escaped it over a decade ago. The roof in my bedroom was caving in. The stairs to the basement had collapsed, and just about everything else had become filthy and falling apart. I had to spend a summer trying to rescue things from the place in 2018 before the Port Authority forced my parents to leave it. But... it didn't end there. The whole neighborhood, as if some apocalypse had occurred at some point, was no longer at all what it once was. Driveways were overgrown, trees had disappeared, things weren't maintained anymore. The trail in the woods I used to explore had somehow become dangerous and impassable. The nearby town fared no better... the places I once knew either moved out, closed, or simply fell apart. The relatives have either passed away or moved on, the schools and familiar landmarks have closed or been torn down. There are now drive-by shootings and crime all over the place there. At some point, the place that I once called home ceased to exist. Actually... no... it rotted away.

As a grown man, there are times when my mind returns to the golden era of these places... the familiar smells, sounds, and feelings still tease the very edge of the senses, briefly bringing me back and making me want to go back and visit, if only for a moment. And this is despite that old home of mine even being a truly horrible place to live at times in my life.

But I can't. It's gone. There is simply nothing to go back to anymore. And I'm going to be honest, it's a bit depressing.

I am truly on my own now. It's a truly humbling feeling.

Things aren't all bad, however. I refused to rot like my past. I've moved on. After much effort and struggle, I have a new family and a new home. Still, no matter what I do within my power to try to make it all feel at least a little like the days past, it remains fleeting at best. Not only has the world of my past faded... I've irreversibly changed, myself.

Having become a father for the first time this year, I realize that with my son, a whole new chance to experience these things has blossomed. Though I may not be able to feel those things myself anymore, my kids will have their own version of it. The comfort of home, the familiarity of friends and family, the sounds, smells, and overall aura of a place they intimately know. And God am I terrified of ruining that somehow. I absolutely MUST do my best to let him enjoy it while it lasts.

We all have to learn to let go and move on at some point. But... if I've learned anything as I've gotten older, things don't last forever. We too often think of the people we know this way, but the entire world you grew up in? Taking things for granted is a path to future sorrow, it seems. But can we really help it in the end?

.....

Anyway... just a musing I had tonight. I think looking at my old OG profile on DeviantART set this in motion. I miss what I had there back then. I absolutely despise what it's become. And though I see the potential to ultimately relive some of that here, so much around me is so irrevocably changed and alien despite this. Perhaps, like my past, I too am beginning to fade away as I grow older, despite my desire to resist it.