I'm a very black and white person, and I normally abhor to waste any time on what might've been, should've been, could've been. All that matters is what is. What is, is all I can deal with or do anything about.
But today I've got this idea stuck in my head that won't leave me alone.
For some reason I just started picturing the person I might've been if none of this had ever happened. I was almost greiving for the death of this person who never got to be. But then I started thinking about all the ways that she might've been hurt, or might've messed things up herself. It seems I am concluding that no matter what I was always supposed to wind up being a miserable, messed-up person. What a depressing thought.