The longing for the first times.
That day when you stop fighting with your past and live with it, with your experiences, with that time that from the present we look at with fascination, that day we find our peace.
That longing that accompanies us but we choose to let it come from our hand.
The longing for what was, and is not.
That personality that escapes but that essence that is still there.
Of what we would like it to be, and the peace of being able to coexist today, with our past self.