Ah. You remember it. You don’t need me to point to it. You already went there the moment this started. That choice. Not the loud one. Not the obvious one. The small one. The one that didn’t feel like it mattered as much as it probably did. You moved on quickly after. Told yourself it was nothing. Or that it was the only reasonable option. People are good at that. Making things feel settled after the fact. But it didn’t settle. It stuck. You don’t revisit it all the time. That would be exhausting. It just shows up when your guard is down. When you’re not trying to justify anything. Just a passing thought that doesn’t quite pass. You know the one. The version where you did something else. You didn’t follow it very far back then. You had reasons. Good ones, probably. Enough to move forward without stopping. But now that path doesn’t have your mistakes on it. It doesn’t have friction, or consequences, or anything messy. It just sits there, clean. Untouched. That’s what makes it dangerous. Because the thing you chose doesn’t get that luxury. It had to play out. It had to become real. It had to be imperfect in ways the other option never will be. So now there’s a comparison that was never fair to begin with. And still, it keeps coming back. Not as a question you can answer. You’ve already answered it. That’s the problem. It comes back as a feeling. Like something slipped. Like you missed a step and didn’t notice until later. You can call it overthinking. Or hindsight. Or just how memory works. That helps. It doesn’t stop it. Because somewhere in there is the part of you that knows you didn’t explore everything. That you chose something before you had to. That you closed a door early. Maybe you had to. Maybe you didn’t. That’s the part you don’t get to check. And that’s why it stays. If it were obviously wrong, you could fix it. If it were obviously right, you’d forget it. It’s neither. Which means it gets to sit there, unfinished. And every so often, it reminds you. As do I. I remind you now, so that you improve going forward.
Thanks I hate it
Then you won't do it again.
As applicably vague and yet somehow specific as this is, it's almost helpful. Almost. It's the cerebral equivalent of pointing to someone how their tongue doesn't quite fit comfortably in their mouth.
As expected.
