is a foreign country, is ago, is dead

The word "nostalgia" ends in an a. Inherently feminine, it reminds us of arms over chests, a confusion of limbs, and waking up to knowing who you were, and where you were going, and that the person beside you had these things locked up inside her. She was, undoubtedly, beautiful. So beautiful. Which is perhaps why you don't remember why you hated her so much. Why those arms over chests were sometimes more like death by creepers, suffocation. Why you slashed and slashed to get the freedom to be nostalgic, safe from her. I'm not going back to her, and neither are you.