They Take Us Back In Time
I keep reading our old messages and it stills feels like the first time I read them.
Yunior Rivas
We find ourselves drawn back to them.
The funny ones, the inside jokes that now feel like secret codes, unlocking laughter that echoes across time. Maybe they’re exchanges with friends, full of typos, emojis, and nonsensical one-liners that made perfect sense in the moment. These are the conversations that remind us how joy, in its simplest form, can truly be timeless. Snapshots of when life felt light and uncomplicated.
The sad ones, the ones we reread in silence, feeling the weight of their finality over and over again. Perhaps it’s a goodbye we weren’t ready for, an apology we couldn’t fully accept, a confession of love that never found its footing. These cut deep, and revisiting them can feel like reopening a wound. Yet, we return to them, as if to trace the edges of our pain, to remind ourselves of how far we’ve come and how far we have left to go.
The mundane ones, those we don’t expect to linger on, but who surprise us each time with their quiet appeal. A grocery list, a meet-up confirmation, a casual “What time will you be home?” The seemingly insignificant thread of words that carry the texture of everyday life. In hindsight, they’re the reminders of routine, of rhythm, of relationships we’re prone to taking for granted.
Our written dialogue of not just what happened, but of who we were in those moments, someone laughing, someone longing, someone living. There to remind us how complex, ever-changing, and beautifully human we are.
So we find ourselves drawn back to them, not to dwell in what once was, but to reach across time, to hold hands with the people we’ve been.
What about the unfinished drafts? Did we forget about those? No, fellow traveler, those are for another day.