feeling things

This is entirely a narcissistic record of self-documentation.
I thought I was content with remembering 2018 and its happiness internally, telling the tales of its sun and its peace and its adventure orally and through the golden memories locked away.
But then, irrationally, I had a panic that I wouldn't remember it as such.
This site has become, more than ever, a diary. A record of emotions and headspaces, a place to remember how I was feeling when I'm sad or happy or nostalgic.
And thus, it seems only right, when I am locked away in the library or suffering the dullness of January (currently!) to flick to the instant gratifying memory of 2018 and remember happiness does exist.

SO, in a brief and unexciting dialect.
2018 was magical, I dream of eternally remembering it as such. Of its achievements and surpassed goals and new people and new countries and peace and so much fun and endless laughter and fun and accomplishment and self-love and independence and friends and new homes and new families and stimulation and rigour and fear and wow.
It was the best. The summer was euphoric, the months preceding challenging but rewarding, grudging but growing, and the months after full of newness and excitement and routine and everything I had craved.
SO that's it. That's how I want to remember it. Stilled in an epoch of peace, sat on a Corsican beach, book in hand and radiating sun soothing. Caught in a Parisian park, eating baguettes and feeling at home in my company. Captured in days in bed tired but content, nights dancing, laughing, weeks blurred in happiness, tea with friends, in just being.

I am now hovering in the liminal space between festivities and return to uni. Its sort of unsettling and a bit disorientating.
I've been feeling especially emotional recently, irrationally so.
Everything makes me want to cry or feel, its not a sadness, just a very emotional sense of being. I haven't been in touch with this poignancy for a long ol' while so I am sort of confused nd a bit concerned about how I'll cope alone, u know?
Will I still want to cry when my mum buys me a turtleneck because she knew I wanted one or when I think about family evenings in front of the fire or when I look at my to do list or I just feel emotions. Fuck I probably need to stop crying so much.
knowing when to let myself feel...knowing when to let the feeling go (thank u @ambivalentlyyours for always providing the answers)
Anyway, so I really just wanted to remember how I was feeling, and sometimes typing offers more catharsis than writing. I feel emotional and different and fragile and anxious and small, but 2018 was sick nd January is always hard.