What’s past is past.

Something about the past is so alluring. Maybe it’s because I was more oblivious to the real world back then, or because I miss seeing the faces I saw everyday in high school or at church, or even because I miss being able to hit the beach during the winter months in the sunny state of Florida (I lived there for seven years, spent most of my adolescence there)… I don’t know.

I can miss it all I want, but I can never go back. I understand that and know that it’s probably the best for myself and for others. I don’t wish to go back, I’m excited about how much I’ve changed (for the better I might add) and I wouldn’t care to revisit the old me from a few short years ago.
I guess what I’m saying is that the past is just that: The Past.
Leave it there. So what if your friends aren’t your friends anymore? So what if you got baby daddy drama? So what if you make a wreck out of your life? So what if you’re ashamed of who you were back then? So what if you realized you haven’t really changed at all? It’s the past.
Why don’t you forget about what you were, and how things were, and how much you might miss it and move forward?

What is it with us humans and having to dwell in the past?

I’m just as guilty. I still want to know what might’ve been if I’d stayed in FL, how things could’ve been different. I want to know what would’ve been different if I’d been willing to express my feelings for a certain person I was secretly obsessed with for two years in high school. I want to know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been so insecure and socially inept. I want to know.
It’s pointless though. Why should I dwell on the past and what could’ve been if I’d been who I am now back then? I know it would’ve been better, and things could’ve possibly turned out more in my favor if I could go back. But why bother?
I’m here now.
You’re here now.
Past regrets and conflicts are nothing compared to what you could do with your life now.
So go make the past right, apologize or confront.
But you can never go back.
So look forward.
What’s past is past.