strawberry yogurt ice cream

Today, I finally found a strawberry yogurt ice cream at a convenience store. After almost two years of searching, can you believe it? Ice cream is ice cream, but in my eyes, it was definitely something more. Last year, I'd often walk around the oval with my friends and pass by the area near the front lobby where people were selling ice cream. I'd ask the vendor if he has that specific flavor I was looking for. And I'd be disappointed as often as I'd ask him. That ice cream was out of stock forever, so it seemed to me.

That idea of that strawberry yogurt ice cream captured the essence of sweetness and an especially fond memory that I so longed to relish at that time. It was weird, kinda stupid actually, of me to think that if I could just take hold of that ice cream, things would change and somehow fall into place.

Fast forward to today. My Mom and I were looking for a place where we could park the car for some time, and somehow we settled into going to a gasoline station near our home. I entered the convenience store to buy anything, just so we could park our car.

I looked for something to satisfy my sweet tooth– chocolate or caramel-flavored ice cream, perhaps. But at the least expected moment, I caught sight of that special strawberry yogurt ice cream I was looking for. For a moment, I thought that the quest was finally completed and the sweet surging memories would soon follow.

But no. No memories. No sparks. No anything.

The awe-filled smile of mine quickly turned into a frown, but the convex curved slowly worked its way upwards again upon my sudden realization. I was free then already, no longer chained to the pointless hope planted in my mind by my past self. And at that moment, it occurred to me–ice cream is nothing but mere ice cream to me now.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing?