Sometimes at night, I sit out on my front porch, watching the sun drop below the broad Pecan trees across the street, and listening to the humming bugs and the breeze rustling the young leaves on the blooming trees, and the occasional lonely bird calling out to nothing in particular. Sometimes, I smile and think how perfect the world, how great the peace. Other times, a tear falls when I realize how much I wish things could be, could have been, different. I think about what I couldn't possibly have saved, what I couldn't possibly have changed, what I couldn't possibly have stopped from changing me, or hurting them.
I know I'm not responsible for any of it but, still, sometimes I feel responsible for not being able to stop the things that made the worst of differences.