I actually was. Or maybe I was and then we weren’t. In the end, that part doesn’t matter as nothing became of that situation. Like. Nothing. Maybe a date or two.
But from where we had been to where things ended up ... world of difference.

But I took that chance, I made that proximity a point when I was looking at relocating and when it didn’t work out the way that I hoped I was devestated.

I was able to move on though, knowing that there was nothing I could do going forward. That my best shot didn’t work and I’d have to learn to live with that.

And I did, and I’m better for it. Years later I still on occasions feel pangs of sadness, but sadness of acceptance, not regret. And that’s a sadness of the human existence.