It’s the trap of all traps. You’ll trap yourself.

She is on a pedestal because she really never aged in your mind. And when you talk or text with her you remember when things were good. Not bad. You think of 25 year old her (or pick an age) and you are thinking through that lens too. She’s a time capsule and you are her time capsule. A box each person can open and remember a time that you weighed less and didn’t groan when you get out of bed.

You can be friends but no more. After a day of catching up what else would you have to talk about.

It’s regret. Regret is dangerous. I’m married with a son. Wonderful home and wife and family. But there is still two that got away from single days. I ran into one at a bar before Mrs Alum. Had a brief talk with her. I rehash that talk in my mind all the time. Because she was the one, until I met the one. She was divorcing at the time and this was a girls night out for her to celebrate a shitty marriage. I had a speech ready to go. Was gonna give her MY number and not ask her. (This was back when you wrote numbers on napkins). Shooters shoot. And at that moment I passed like James Harden in a game 7.

I say all that to say regret is a nasty word in this sense. Do I regret my wife? My son? The home we’ve built that I’m sitting in? No. But if I could go back in time and re do that conversation and take my shot, you would erase all of it. It’s an evil game we play with ourselves. I talk to them both on Facebook DM. My wife is aware that I do. I never erase them and I have a device that always open to my Facebook. So my wife knows if she suspects, she can read it.

We are all knocking on 50 now. But my mind has 22 year old girls in mind when I picture them. It’s a lose lose.