I feel like it was yesterday when I was going to play apple tree square with my friends in my hometown. When we lay down on the grass to look at the shapes of the clouds and laughed all afternoon. Back home we bought ice cream, my best friend always chose the vanilla one, I chose the chocolate one. I also remember those long afternoons playing jump rope.
Later, in my adolescence, I remember that we used to ride our bicycles on the same streets as my childhood, with my first boyfriend. I liked to watch him doing his stunts on bike and skateboard.
My first drunkenness, the first time I threw up after drinking so much liquor. Well, that’s why I don’t remember my “first time” (you know what I mean).
All these images of my childhood and adolescence have come to my mind, and today, at 30 yo, graduated, without children, living on the other side of the country a kind of lonely life, I feel a great nostalgia and a desire to return to those years in my hometown where everything was simpler and more pleasant.