Memories Of The 1990’s

This morning, memories of the 1990’s unfolded before me as I let my mind wander back to those golden years. There’s a comfort in nostalgia, a gentle reminder that amidst the evolving moments of our lives, some remain etched in of our hearts, untouched and evergreen. Lately, as the brisk September wind dances through the leaves, I find myself enveloped in a warm embrace of yesteryears, a tender reunion with the moments that sculpted me into the woman I am today.

I cast my memory back to the unforgettable summer of 1996—a time of blooming discoveries and the sweet taste of freedom. That summer held the magical paradox of youthful immaturity mingled with the budding responsibility that came with my very first job. Every morning, as the sun greeted me I stepped into a world that was mine to explore, with endless possibilities that awaited me.

It was during this blissful summer that I met Allegra, a beacon of light and laughter that stepped into my life just when I needed her. The friendship that blossomed between us was both grounding and liberating, teaching me the true essence of camaraderie and the kind of love that only friendship could offer. It was a time of firsts, a period where responsibility met with an unbridled sense of freedom, where every day was an adventure waiting to be seized.

Looking back on my life and past relationships, I realize that there have only been two women in my life who have managed to carve a permanent residence within the corners of my heart. Allegra, with her untamed spirit and boundless enthusiasm, was the first. Amelia came later, yet she held an equally profound place in my life, bringing with her a love that was both gentle as well as fierce. Through them, I have learned to embrace the many facets of love, witnessing its ability to heal, to grow, and to transcend time.

The mountains have always been my refuge, holding stories of my happiest days nestled amidst their towering peaks and lush valleys. As a woman who found solace in their majestic presence, I realized that the cities could never truly satiate the longing in my heart, the innate need for tranquility and communion with nature.

My best times have always centered around the mountains. There’s a special kind of peace that envelops you when you are amidst their grandeur, a gentle reminder of the beauty that lies in simplicity. The mountains, in all their magnificent glory, have been the silent witnesses to my joys, my sorrows, and the love that blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

Looking back, I find a certain kind of poetry in the intertwining of love and nature, of finding connections that were both profound and everlasting amidst the mountains’ serene beauty. It is a testament to the fact that love, in all its forms, finds its way into our lives, and of beautiful moments that remain with us forever.

I found comfort in my life journey, in the beautiful moments that shaped me, and in the love I have with Amelia that has graced my life. Amidst the ever-changing landscapes of our lives, we find our true selves in the people and places we love, and in the hearts that have loved us, unconditionally and without end.

And so, as the sun sets on these memories, I find myself reminiscing about a summer that feels both distant and intimately close, a golden period where love blossomed amidst the lush valleys and towering peaks, where I found my home, my haven, in the arms of the mountains and the love that bloomed therein. The mountains won again.

I stand tall, as a woman embraced by the morning mist, where the mountains trace their tender fingertips along my open palms, as if to share secrets known only to the patient stones and silent streams. My heart swells, a tide being pulled by a Moon of Earth and stone. The mountains and I—we are age-old friends, confidantes who share whispered secrets in the language of rustling leaves and babbling brooks.

September 14, 2023


    • Thomas Slatin

      In reflecting upon my childhood, I find myself navigating a lot of mixed emotions. As a woman who has always harbored a distinctive essence, a deviation from the norm since those tender years, I bear the weight of those of those times throughout my life when I was excluded from the mainstream narrative. I pour those vivid feelings, those emotions and feelings into my writing, earnestly seeking to encapsulate the depth of feelings that once flourished in those relationships, before the inevitable drift.

      There’s a part of me that strives to understand, to empathize with those who chose to turn away from me as we ventured into adulthood. Perhaps in their hearts, they had their reasons, a logic that might seem illegitimate to many, but still bore weight for them. As I document these tales from my childhood, for many years I tried hold space for forgiveness and understanding, learning by mistake that all that remains is my own personal nostalgia.

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