It’s a captivating experience to find yourself once again in a place you used to call home. It may look exactly the same, leaving you with the illusion that it’s only you who’ve changed. Or it may look different, and you’ll find something completely different, the ghost of an old friend or companion, contorted into the image of the stranger that confronts you now. Oh, what a familiar stranger!

Where do I find the memories that I hold so dearly, that have shaped me—or have I shaped them? Am I so defined by the experiences of my past, or am I simply looking for what isn’t there? It’s like finding yourself face-to-face with someone that you used to know, not knowing who they are, not anymore. But neither am I: I am not the same. 

For while it’s all good and fun to live in one’s memories, I am no longer the person I remember. I cannot relive those times. They’ve served their purpose, and now neither of us remain.