Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Satisfaction

I imagine all the time we could have had, all the things we could have done, and all the words we could have spoken. I imagine it all so vividly that i sometimes forget that we never did it. I think back to the few brief times we just sat back and talked and realized that those were the only real connections we had in all that time we spent together, keeping ourselves occupied. We both had a lot to say, and maybe it didn't ever really need to be said. I hope it didn't. I hope it was enough to just be near each other, in mutual understanding. I hope it was mutual for you too, and that it's not just a delusion i had to convince myself i was satisfied. I'm sorry for any opportunities i missed. I'm sorry for any chances that i wasn't brave enough to take. I'm sorry to you, and i'm sorry to the whole world that had to spend another moment suffering at the sight of another lost connection. I wonder at what point is my imagination a tool and at what point is it a burden. Will i use it to foresee possibilities and devise new plans, or will i instead just use it to keep myself satisfied, content in the memories of what could have been, but never can be again. Have i gotten so good at covering the places in my mind where there should be regrets that i don't even see the new ones coming. Is this satisfaction if i can convince myself it is? Is this independence if there's no one around to tell me it's not?
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