May Seventh. My entire body becomes filled with an
indescribable overwhelming of happiness, sadness, and wishful longing every
year on this date. Nostalgia overtakes
my senses as it tries to bring me perfectly back to that first May Seventh ten
years ago.
There is a first turning point in every young person’s life
when he or she will never be the same.
That turning point often occurs in a moment, pricking the soul
instantaneously, permeating through every limb, where it remains, forever. Years may pass and the memory becomes
dormant, leaving one to move on.
Until Nostalgia sneaks up and without warning, wakes the
memory.
May Seventh is my trigger and the memory of my turning point
beats to vibrant life once again. Even
when I do not notice the date, I can feel the breeze carrying in hopes of an
early summer and the scents of fresh trees and warm days. I know it is May Seventh and I spend the day
in another world, longing to feel those feelings I first felt in a young girl’s
heart.
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