Decades lived, countless scenes witnessed — feasts and drinks, extravagance pushed to its limits, money spent like water. I’ve had all of it.
And yet, I still can’t forget those few glorious summers of my youth.
Back then, I hadn’t yet stepped onto my path. I had no idea that in the years ahead, I would need to fight tooth and nail to reclaim my family’s legacy. I simply assumed I’d settle into an ordinary life, savoring a quiet existence forever.
I remember it clearly: every time I got off work back then, my pockets would hold a loose stack of American and Canadian bills. Not much, really — but that half-inch thickness made me feel like the richest person in the world.
I could buy whatever drink I fancied, eat whatever I liked, go wherever I wanted, and take my equally young friends out for a good time. Back then, I felt my life was already complete.
Career prospects? Grand ambitions for the future?
Those weren’t things the young me cared about.
Youth, in its raw and unrestrained state, only ever sees the present — never the future. Give me today; tomorrow can wait.
Especially when I watched the brilliant setting sun pour itself like liquid gold across the beach, and the ocean generously showed off its breathtaking deep blue. Not far down the shore, a group of people as beautiful as the scenery itself waved me over.
Warm sand beneath my feet. An ice-cold drink in my hand. A clean, easy breeze at my back.
Everything in sight was wonderful. Everything in my heart was joy.
That feeling — not even a stay at Aman Resorts with a glass of Louis XIII could ever bring it back.
That kind of ease and freedom, the kind only a carefree young person can truly feel, is like the most stunning scene in a film: once it’s over, the feeling it gave you in that moment can never be replicated. It belongs only to that instant — never to be seen again, not in this lifetime.
But I was still naive enough to think this kind of life could last forever. That I could stay submerged in all that gold, deep blue, and warm rosy light indefinitely.
Little did I know, the gears of fate had already begun turning in secret. The last truly carefree chapter of my life was drawing to a close. The final stretch of youth — wild, unchecked, belonging entirely to itself — was only a few short paragraphs away from its closing period.
After that: iron horses and battle axes. Heaven and earth, remade.
Now, looking back on those summers, all I can do is smile — a little helpless, a little grateful — and thank my younger self for having seized that fleeting youth while it was there.
Thank you. To myself.
The comments section, as always, is yours. On this sweltering summer night, I and everyone here would love to hear your story.
Come — raise a glass. Let’s talk.