I keep going over and over in my head the things I could have done differently. Would have, had I known that my time with Ian would be so short. Not should have, though. There’s only one of those… And it was probably far less impactful than I think it was.
But boy, howdy, are there a million things that could have gone differently. Maybe in another universe they did, and somewhere in some reality, Ian’s still alive. I’m still happy and hopeful and fairly naïve.
Lola Rennt is a phenomenal movie that examines a small number of things that can make a minuscule difference. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a really fun exploration. I kind of wish there was a way to run all the possibilities. See what would have done what… But it’s probably really good that there’s not. Because how torturous would that be? Finding the one thing you could have done differently that would have changed things… Suddenly, that could’ve turns into a should’ve. And then it’s all you fault.
If I found out that asking THAT question at THAT point in time, when I thought about it, but didn’t because I didn’t want to pry would have kept Ian alive, how could I live with that? The action doesn’t matter… The not doing or saying something you thought about… The doing or saying something you thought about NOT doing or saying…. It’s all irrelevant now.
Because I didn’t ask, or did. Or didn’t do, or did… And at the time, it seemed like the right thing to do.
And that one should have? Well… It was little. It was a tiny, silly, seemingly inconsequential thing. Do I do this, or that? Pointless, really. I thought I knew what was going on. I thought there would be no reason not to choose what I did. And yet. That’s the one stupid little thing I regret.
Oh, I apologized again and again and again… And he told me I was being a baloney. But if I had chosen the other way, I can’t help but think he might still be here.
It’s truly futile. There’s no way to know. And it’s far more likely that it wouldn’t have changed a thing. Or that it would have changed a billion things, but not his death.
But here I am, wishing I had a magical gift of denial that would turn back time so I could at least see.
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