Memory of the Liberty Island

It’s been 8 years since Liberty Island.

How do I remember that? I have my ways.

Life’s been so different since then.

Summer of 2012, I was about to transfer to a new high school. I was researching universities with drama/stage management degrees, not thinking about writing for a living yet. I was 6 kgs lighter than I am today.  I haven’t read the books and watched the movies and found the right fashion style that define me today. 

But I think back to that particular day a lot.

I keep wondering when I’ll get the chance to go back to that magically glorious city, to marvel once again at those iconic landmarks, and taste the so-called ‘American Dream’.

I remembered being so happy on that island. I remembered open air, sunny sky, the ferry ride, then walking towards the statue, each step realizing how grand it really is. I remembered the picture being taken. I remembered walking back to the pier, content.

I remembered the rain that came not long after that. But even soaked, I was still happy. We got hot chocolate afterwards on a fancy bodega. The sun returned soon enough.

I've learned along the way that memory is a cruel thing. 

Going back to the same place won't recreate the same experience, even when we have the same people around. Memory we can only hold it dear in our minds and imagination, but never relive it again. 

But memory can sometimes be kind, as to give some hope, relieve, and joy. 

The memory of Liberty Island gives me a little ache but so much joy. 

I am still revolving and searching.

But the memories I hold on to helps me be grateful for each process,

because even happy, it won't be my happiest days, yet.  

My happiness might not look as beautiful and fancy as Liberty Island. 

It might look a lot more modest than the Big Apple, 

and I might never stop dreaming of going back,

But with everything I've picked up since then,

I also learn to create my own happiness. 

Walking barefoot on the backyard at night, happy. 

Ready a good book under the tropical heat, happy.

A mug of cold chocolate on a hot summer's night, happy.

Re-watching Taylor Swift's Reputation Stadium Tour, happy.

Sleeping early and waking up without an alarm, happy.

Filling up a notebook, happy.

Plain toast, happy.

I am grateful that I can remember that day on the Liberty Island, and a huge smile came to my lips.

And I am grateful that even here and now, even when I might never go back, I too am happy.