It's a familiar course of things. First you encounter the thing, and the grand picture of importance of that encounter will be seen much later. You spend critic

It's a familiar course of things. First you encounter the thing, and the grand picture of importance of that encounter will be seen much later. You spend critical time with it, which changes you. Which probably Changes you. Then, as the time period you're in dictates, you're separated, and the thing dissolves into oblivion, and you're up in the world, changed but still in the beginning of the road - which you're among few others see, dimly, but more or less fully ahead. More time passes, you're well ahead on the road, and got lots of stories to tell about trophies under your belt. The thing is firmly in memory, until at some time you realize it's possible to conjure - at least the physical recreation of the thing. You do that, and a smile lightens up your face. Just few others can understand you - those are your tribe in a sense, your brothers in arms. Time can't be returned, but you're somehow more stable, stronger and more confident for that.