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Living in the Past: A Remembrance of the Present

Alex Perez | Writer


Imagine this: Your parents decide to leave the neighborhood you’ve lived in your entire life. Your friends, your school, your family— it all gets left behind as the car leaves the driveway, and with it, everything you’ve ever known.


Something like that happened to me, except I left a whole country.


At the age of twelve, my parents did what many families in third-world countries do. Leave their home country, and strive to pursue the “American Dream.” Little me was excited, to say the least, but it wasn’t until I grew older that I realized how that decision would have affected me for better or worse.


When I visit my family back home, I see how much they’ve changed and grown. The younger cousins I used to watch over and take care of, are now full of personality and uniqueness. It makes me think, what would’ve happened to the me that didn’t leave? What happened to the alternate me that stayed and grew alongside them?


There were times when I thought part of me still lived there, and that even with small visits I could just pretend nothing changed. Though I realized the person I knew only lives in memories, I’ve come to accept it.


Some say that we should live in the present and let the past stay in the past. However, when the past fragments itself into your present it blooms a sense of nostalgic remembrance.


So to those that ever had to leave a place they called home, it’s okay; it lives within you now.

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