Gone are the times that will never return. For some reason nostalgia seems to be something almost addictive for the people. What happens that we constantly return to this feeling that has actually a so sad meaning? Are not we supposed to pursuit happiness instead?
The lake recalls that old and lost memory, the day that Moon finally accepted him and swam in his waters giving herself in soul and flesh in such a way that the Lake thought he had her forever, that she will never run away (please note, in spite in german the concept Moon has a male character attached, we are gonna assume it as a female). What a great sadness to realize the mistake! The Lake saw her swimming in his waters, but couldn’t see it was just the reflection of her light over his surface. How bitter the tears are, when remembering all those illusions now completely shattered, tonight when no Moon or reflection are present, not even that ghostly pale light which announce love’s proximity in the dark and starless sky.
What if longing or nostalgia is no more than the overriding proof that we’ve been happy, perhaps not life long (because nothing is meant to be life long, in some cases, nor even the life itself) but certainly in the moments. Maybe we dive deep into longing one and over again because we suspect that there’s a clue to the happiness sunk to the bottom of its abyss. Maybe is the longing a kind of hope that the bliss exists, and it’s reachable because we’ve reached it before, and maybe is actually knocking on our doors in this right moment, and we can possibly hear it if we’re able to live and understand the moment itself.