Some days I’m Van Gogh’s Starry Night other days I’m his suicide letter.

"It has been years."

Said Will the moment we embraced on our second rendezvous in London a few weeks ago. 3 years to be exact. I guess I could say I couldn't believe today exactly 3 years ago I was leaping into the pristine turquoise water, dancing with tiny fishie that would rid me of my dead cells. But I can. Things have taken plenty of turns. Will only confirms it further with his scruffy golden locks and old, worn out garments. I guess things haven't changed too much for some people. You can take that sentence as mockery but for some, like Will, it might be flattery. It resembles the flexible, agile traveller that he was and still is. Who am I to judge? When I met him he was only 18 and have been travelling for a whole year on a tiny backpack with only a couple pair of trousers and shirts. I admired that, and I still do to this day to some extent. We as unique human beings, though suppressed by society's ideals of leading a successful life, may still pursue a unique view of the world, of what they should do.
In Greek, ‘nostalgia’ literally means the pain from an old wound’. It’s a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a spaceship, it’s a time machine. It goes backward and forwards, it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. Does that mean I am not happy where I am? On the contrary, I have a great job, a job that many would die to experience, with exposure from market-leaders in the most innovative technology fields currently. I couldn't have asked for a better man to be my partner; committed, patient, intelligent beyond compare, and those are just a few of his good qualities. My parents are healthy, happy, successful. Jon is still alive and well and as ever the smartest boy I've known. Why then, when nostalgia hits me, I still get the urge to drop all the good things in my life, just to return to a happy moment in the past?
Studies show that most emotions last no longer than 90 seconds unless we attach stories to them. You have a feeling of being dissatisfied—and this will pass through you quickly unless you make up a story about how you’re dissatisfied because everything in your life is going wrong and your job is shit. When you attach to the story, you suffer needlessly and the suffering can linger for years. But you don’t have to choose to suffer this way because all that isn't true. Your soul can find peace, comfort, and stillness even in the most difficult times if you’re able to view your negative emotions from this witness position.
I could go on about the wiring of our brain where we are loss averse and pin our experience on the peak the of the whole duration, but discard memories of the periods that give us milder sensation, but I'd save the scientific talk to the only person who could stand me (Alex watch out :D). My question is, could I still have the life I think is good and stable but still have ecstatic adventures and I have once experienced? In other words, could I at some point in life, achieve the best of both worlds?