those days are never coming back

talking with you about your childhood brought mine back to my memory.

thinking about my childhood always makes me sad. it's not that my childhood was unhappy or somehow troublesome, because it wasn't. it was normal. i learned how to walk, how to speak, how to read and write and count. i made friends. i attended school and was a very good student, except perhaps in maths. i learned (way too late) to ride a bike. but i look back now and although none of it was sad, there is no moment i long for. there's nothing i miss there. most people i know have something in their childhood that makes them smile whenever they think about it. like saying those were the days, you know. for me those were not the days. those were just days. i've walked through them fine, but they mean so little now. yes, i had fun, whenever i was playing football with my friends (even though i sucked at it), or playing hide-and-seek. or when i was with my best friend running around the brooks and the marshes, catching snakes and toads and turtles, never to hurt them, only to know them (back then i wanted to be a biologist). or when me and my gang were riding around the countryside, across forests and plains. it was all fun. but there's nothing left of it. and whenever i think about it, i always feel somewhat sorry about it.