In my thoughts before writing abstracts on the blog, it’s always etched in my mind that longing isn’t bound by rules. You can yearn for a moment, a feeling, a place, or a version of yourself that no longer exists. You might miss a person who once filled your days with laughter, or a quiet morning spent in a city that now feels like a distant dream. You can miss the person you once aspired to be, or the path you didn’t take, a life that seemed possible but never came to be.
There’s an ache in recalling a shared meal with someone you’ve lost touch with or a fleeting connection that slipped away too soon. You can feel the absence of a friend who lives oceans away, or the gentle embrace of a loved one sitting right beside you. Sometimes, you even miss the things that never truly belonged to you—a cozy armchair by a fire you only saw in passing, a sunset view from a mountain you haven’t climbed, or a life story you glimpsed but couldn’t make your own.
And perhaps, there’s the most bittersweet longing of all: when what you miss reappears in your life, only for you to realize that the memory was warmer, more comforting than the reality. In that moment, you understand that sometimes, the idea of something holds more power than its presence ever could.