Doing what I always do when I start this again — reading old snippets of things that I’ve written and saved (and being surprised at how not-terrible they are).

I remember writing almost all of what I find — but only once I start to read it. I may not remember when it was, or where I was when I wrote it, but I remember doing it, and usually I remember why.

I came across one very quick little snippet of a thing about a moment in time that seems forever ago. The way I captured it, it seemed perfect — and I’m sure it was, and I’m sure that’s why I wanted to write it. But the problem is, I have a few things written from the beginning of that saga, and not from the end of it. Interesting, because for another saga — the long one (although the one I’m in now is certainly taking over as the Most Important, if not already has), for that one, I only wrote in the endings, of which there were many for him. Interesting how for some relationships, some moments in time, I’m inspired to capture the perfect, wonderful moments, and for others, I’m inspired to get out on paper the pain and the relief of the endings.

Separately, that one little snippet had me thinking about those brief memories with that man. Maybe it was doomed to begin with, but he is certainly the only one who I find myself asking What If? What if the timing wasn’t wrong? What would have happened if we were slightly more mature? He is wonderful, if still somewhat immature, and a very different kind of man than My Man, which isn’t a good or bad thing. I can’t say I know exactly what went wrong. I’m sure I have closure, but still. It is interesting to wonder What If.

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