on seeing people you used to know 💌

on seeing people you used to know 💌

coming home, growing apart, and learning to hold it all at once

By Lili Kowalski

coming home for christmas break is always an interesting time. first is the overwhelming sense of nostalgia that comes with visiting a place you were once so acquainted with, and then comes the people you once knew everything about, but nearly know nothing about now.

there’s this sort of mourning for childhood and for what used to be, whenever i come home, because i can’t help but remember the years of life i spent in this one place, and the number of people i’ve been so fortunate to spend my days with. the hardest part is that this place that i called home has hardly ever felt like one. i always stuck out like a sore thumb, and the psychological damage is long-sustaining. but regardless, there will always be this shared history that cannot be overlooked or forgotten.

yes, this is the place where people made sure i knew i was different than them, but it’s also the one where i met my best friends, who have shown me the purest form of love. yes, this is the place where i spent nights wondering if my friends were going to turn on me, but it’s also the place where my dad took me to the saturday lowe’s workshops, and i learned how to use a hammer for the first time. yes, this is the place where i will inevitably see everybody i once knew from high school, but it’s also the place where i serendipitously fell in love.

so while i discover the trauma and resentment i hold for the place i called home, i also can’t help but remember that this place made me who i am today. for all the ups and the downs, i grew up here. i learned how to read here. i went sledding with my dad every winter here. i learned how to do my first cartwheel here. i went to my first protest here. i developed various passions here. i made my first mistake here. i lived a whole 18 years here.

there are some things that never change, and while buildings will keep on being built, and intersections will change every time i come back, this city is still the one i called home, and i fear that will never change.

i have a love-hate relationship with coming back home, though. living on my own in an entirely different city has been one of the most freeing things i have ever embarked on. having that autonomy to live exactly how i want to live, and to regulate my own schedule and lifestyle is everything i’ve wanted for as long as i could remember. being surrounded by people who make me feel heard and seen. being in a larger city with endless cultures to explore. being in a location where my interests are highlighted, rather than diminished. being a place that has become more of a home than where i spent most of my life.

i love seeing my family and being back home; i love being home with my partner and my bunny rabbit. i love being back in a place where i know directions like the back of my hand; i love exploring all of the places i’ve never heard of. i love my nostalgic coffee shops i went to throughout high school; i love my new coffee shops i go to now with my friends from college.

there are plenty of things i love about this city, but there are also things that remind me of the things i no longer have. seeing people in the middle of target, making eye contact with them, and walking away without another glance is an ephemeral experience. knowing that i once spent hours talking with them on the phone. knowing that they had cried on my shoulder during their first breakup. knowing that there was a time when we spent more time together than apart. and now coming to the realization that that is no longer the case, that they are an entirely different person. that i am an entirely different person. and that we are not a “we” anymore. that is the strangest feeling.

it’s not nostalgia for that connection. it’s not resentment that i wasted precious time on someone who didn’t play a lifelong role in my life. it’s also not happiness or gratitude for our bond that once existed. it’s kind of like seeing a place where you went to every single day. where you had learned so many things about yourself. where you had met the most impactful people in your life. where you had learned the most impactful lessons. now, think of that place, and imagine the building is the same as you remember it. the structure is identical to when you were last there. hell, they hadn’t changed the types of shrubs they grew in the courtyard, or repainted the swingset that so desperately needed another coat. everything was the same. but it isn’t. the building is no longer filled with the laughter of the teachers you knew. the library no longer has the books that made you love reading. the paper practices of learning your ABCs is now taught online. and the people you had grown to know and love, the constants that made the place how you remembered it, are no longer there. so yes, you can look at that building with gratitude and reminiscing, but even though it looks exactly as it did the day you left it, deep down, you know it’s entirely different.

through writing this, i’m learning that there’s really no way of defining this feeling in one word, as there are endless amounts of adjectives that could be used. instead, i feel like the it’s the notion that while everything seems the same, you know deep down, that everything has changed, and while you can him and haw on how to describe that feeling, you must accept that fact. things moved on without you, and that’s scary, and sometimes unbelievable, but that’s the fact of life.

so while seeing people whom i shared glimpses of my life with, the feeling is indescribable. it’s filled with fondness, nostalgia, resentment, pain, confusion, gratitude, and so much more. and the sooner you can accept that these emotions can all coexist simultaneously, the sooner you can find that closure you so deeply yearn for.

seeing my old best friend walk into the coffee shop i’m at, will always pull on my heartstrings a little, cause even though we haven’t talked in years and we are genuinely incompatible, there was a time when i could have never believed this is where we’d end up now. and, to be honest, i don’t think this feeling will ever change. while this is the answer nobody wants to hear, this is just part of the beautiful and complex thing that is to be human. nobody will ever indefinitely rid themselves of nostalgia or regret for what they did or didn’t do. nobody will ever feel 100% at peace with how they left things with people from their past. nobody. and the fact that everybody experiences this universal feeling in more ways than we can imagine, is in itself unpredictable, and at the very least, how you know that you are alive.