Lead me back home from this place

I just got back from the last festival this summer and this year. I'm all filled with joy from all the fun and love we enjoyed there but also I'm so sad it's over. Usually when I write down most of my thoughts they sound extremely melancholic while most of them should not turn out that way. Sometimes, when I'm alone, I find joy in my sadness. I think it's better to feel sad than not to feel anything at all. But this time neither my sadness is unintended, neither do I find joy in it. I'm filled with nostalgia for the days which were not years but only a few hours back. I long for the peace, love and music that was in the air all the time. While I sit on my bed and write this, I wish I would be sitting with my best friends on the seaside sand, laughing so hard that my belly starts to hurt from our jokes about Italian accents while the stars shine so brightly above our heads. These festivals are more home to me than the place I really live at. I know that if joy would be endless then it would not be so joyful at all. But I can't help myself not to feel miserable. I can't stop myself from already missing those beautiful moments. And thinking that the next festival will be only next year, after a cold and endless winter, does not help at all.  Oh, summer, why did you have to pass so quickly? Why did you slip from my fingers before they realized to grab and hold you tight?

My sadness also has a soundtrack: