By Reemas J Al-Mesbah

There’s something about the warmth that’s felt when the sun kisses your skin. A warmth like the yellow lights shining in a familiar home on a winter night. A warmth that feels like nostalgia. Every memory that has been—and every one that will be—is always one that is cherished.

That kind of warmth was loud. It was a wave that washed over you and left you refreshed. Sometimes, you looked back and saw the time you spent playing with your friends. You remembered how you talked and laughed with them. You remember the time you ate cold cakes, the time you made stupid videos, and the time right after you walked in the rain. Those days made you feel like their nights were full of bright stars. They were filled with quiet noise that made you laugh in weird ways.

Other times, you rewound the moments you had with your family, the times your siblings came back with gifts, the times your brothers taught you games, and the times your sister yelled at you for losing all of them. Those times were moments that smelled of vanilla and caramel—moments that tasted sweet. Then there were your own moments. The times you sat doing your hair. The times you called your friends. The nights you watched TV with your family. Moments like those took time, and they took patience, but they played like a soft soundtrack in the background. They were loud in their stillness, and they remain rooted in your mind.

This kind of warmth is quiet. It’s a warmth that’s often overlooked. It’s the kind that makes you feel alive. It’s the feeling of sitting down and typing away at your keyboard. It’s thinking about your next snack. It’s sitting on your bed next to your sister. It’s texting your friends for advice, or asking them to read your work. These moments are fleeting—but they’re emotional gold.

It’s also the feeling of wondering about every possibility. The feeling of imagining tomorrow. It’s that warm feeling of excitement—when butterflies are dancing in your stomach. Or maybe throwing a party. This kind of warmth feels cold. And it’s a warmth I constantly feel.

I already miss my future. I miss the words that are yet to be spoken. I miss the loud laughter that hasn’t yet left me breathless. I miss the memories that haven’t yet been made. But I know those memories will be as sweet as honey and dates.

Those moments keep me curious. What will make me smile next? When will I take my next photograph? Who will be with me at my next big event?

Nostalgia is like the feeling of bright yellow streetlights during the sunset in wintertime. It’s a feeling that knows no time nor place. A sensation that’s soft and cold. To me, yellow is the embodiment of nostalgia. It’s like one color encompassing every memory. It holds a meaning that can’t be explained. It creates a feeling that can’t be contained. And it fuels fires for passion that can’t be restrained. It might seem like such a trivial matter, but even small things can be symbols of much greater ideas. Memories are connectors between different individuals, and sharing those moments are what makes them so special. That’s why remembering is such a gift. Everything, everywhere, makes me miss the warmth of the feeling of yesterday and tomorrow.