Hiraeth. A Welsh word. One of the many words that I chanced upon recently. This one is special though. For I relate to that feeling; I experience those pangs of homesickness at times, if not always. A homesickness for a home you cannot return to; a home which never was; the yearning and grief for the lost places of your past. A weird yet fanciful thought. 


Homesick for a home you can never return to. Old memories. Memories of places you had to leave behind, never to look back. Memories of people who had to be left behind, never to return to. Memories of moments immersed in joy, only to be snatched away later. The irony of having to leave behind the very things that once meant the world to you; that once meant home. And yet the yearning stays. The grief persists. If only we could go back to those moments and live them yet another time and hold on to them forever. If only fate would have it. The cravings of the heart is what it shall cease to be. Thats hiraeth.

A feeling of stuck in the past, some would say. I would like to believe, no. Some memories are precious beyond what words can describe. If there be nostalgia around them, so be it. There is no looking back. There is no going back. Nonetheless, those memories are special even now when they have been outlived and can never be returned to. Thats hiraeth.

Hiraeth. I uncovered a new word today!