Sometimes I wish I could re-meet people.
That I could turn back time and start fresh. That I could not only erase a painful past but implement the lessons I learned from it? We’d meet again and I’d know but they wouldn’t. What a gift that would be.
I can think of two people in particular.
Can you think of anyone?
In one of those relationships, I’d treat that person better. I’d pay that person more attention, and I’d take a little less and give a whole lot more. And in the other? I’d treat myself better. And talk to myself better, too. We still wouldn’t have ended up together because I would’ve respected myself enough to leave earlier. But I would’ve been able to experience what brazen confidence feels like.
It’s regret. And it’s difficult to revisit.
I saw one of their names on the side of a truck yesterday, which is why I bring all this up. It’s an uncommon name, and an inhale got caught in my chest as an 18-wheeler rolled it and a semi truck-sized shipment of memories through the intersection in front of me. The good and the bad.
The regret. It flooded. And my heart ached.
And then I wondered what memories that person kept of me? If any? Were they all bad like I dreaded? Were they all buried or burned like I deserved?
Does any of this resonate?
I wanted to re-meet this person so badly. To introduce that person to the Lindsay I am now. I bet they’d like me better. I like me better. I like the way I like other people better.
Still with me?
I don’t have a solution here. Just a new North Star. Just a new perspective on the now and the new people I meet. I suppose?
^^^ Denver people are funny people.
Tomorrow—Monday—is my third day at my new big exciting job.
How’s that for a transition.
I’m excited and always nervous when I go in, but the good kind of nervous. I’m even more excited to sip on a delicious Americano from Crema while I people-watch the hell out of Denver’s 20-something morning crowd. Hustlas. All of ’em.
Make it a good Monday, ok?
Push on, PUSH ANIMALS >>>