I've had some great days. Through the years, I've collected my fair share of "men only" stories, to be shared exclusively during "guy talk." This is a time when the fellas come together and share stories about their past and experiences with various women, and action movies, and pants. And if you're a woman who's had sex with one of those guys, there's a very large chance that you're one of the women being talked about. Rarely, a guy might attach a name to the story of vaginal conquest, but in most cases, guys tend to keep names out of it for the sake of keeping their "Magic Number" fairly difficult to guess. It's all we have left, now that the days of pillaging and plundering have unfortunately come to an end. The best "war" stories some of us have to share end up being about the battle of the erection and the Fireball shots.
I said all of this to say, for some of us, it's time to let go of the past. Many of us treat the stories as just stories; things that happened in the past that were nice, once. But others tend to hold on just a little too tight to those glory days, hoarding pictures, videos, and mementos through the years like trophies, of times that will never come again. Then, it's time to move someone else into your life, but there are 10 years worth of old news cluttering up your time and space. At some point, you have to let it fade into the memory of what used to be. You won't forget that one day you managed to get those Vietnamese twins to go back with you to your hotel room and dress you up like slave girl Leia while they screamed things about midichlorians and Carbonite. No one would forget that. But you don't need to keep the red dildo you used for a lightsaber stashed away in a tin box in hopes that you can tell your grand children about all of the women that could have been their Nana.
We spend a lot of our time pining for the days long gone, 90s cartoons, Christmas mornings and when "gangsters" used to dress in suits:
instead of baggy sagging jeans:
instead of baggy sagging jeans:
or tight, sagging jeans, for some reason:
When, honestly... Al Capone was a murderer... and a human trafficker... and overall syphilis ridden criminal. Looking back, he didn't kill our direct family members, so it's easy to idolize him, right? Honestly I don't much care about the dress code of my murderers. It's just fun to think that the olden days were times of pure joy and innocence, when in fact we may have a better life sitting right in front of us. Too many of us forget that.
If you never really let go of the past and escape the nostalgic dreamscape, you'll never be able to move forward.
