Memory's a funny thing. Maybe we embrace it because there's some fucked up disconnect in our brains. Like some primal part of us refuses to believe we can't reach back in time and shift things just enough to nudge our lives in slightly different directions, to set us on a better course.
You can play that game on all kinds of levels, right? I mean--maybe you saw a girl in a mall when you were sixteen, and she just drilled you right between the eyes, kicking your heart down into your stomach, if only for an instant. And fifteen, twenty years later, that memory comes to you at the oddest moments. And even though you never looked back or said a word to her, you wonder what would have happened if you had.
Or maybe later in life you rediscovered somoene you missed the first time around. And in some weird way your head convinces your heart that time will one day double back and give you a chance to do it right this time. To go back. To be taken back. To go back and do it right this time. Pay more attention to what you missed the first time around, and rectify things.
Or maybe you've wronged the right one too many times to count, and a part of you recognizes when it all started to go south, and another part of you thinks it can all be reset to zero, and you'll get a second chance.
I dunno. But this one gets to me: