I was sorting through my e-mail today, trying to clean up my inbox, when I stumbled along a stash that threw me off guard. I didn’t think that they would affect me in any way, but they did. I didn’t even read them; the titles just threw me.

Without these titles, these scant few words, I’m fine, and I understand the way things are, and the way things have worked out. Everything is logical to me, and my mind functions as normal. But when I see these words, my mind floods with memories, thoughts, emotions. I get a glimpse of what could have been.

And then I realize that it’s just a sliver of a cross-section that takes almost nothing of the whole situation into account. Or do I? Otherwise, I would be able to stop thinking about it, and I could just let it rest.

And yet I can’t. The good thing is that it’s not an attempt at convincing myself of what I would like to believe. I can be pretty sure about this, one of the few things in a world where I might be dreaming.

I wish I wasn’t like this at all. But I am. There has been only one time that I didn’t feel like I needed another party to know that I was right. And it was because the truth was so obviously on my side, that arguing about it would have been trivial.

Writing about this has helped. I realize that anything, pictures; text; or just thoughts; can bring up ideas unprovoked. The ideas may be good or bad, but they are one’s own. The understanding that they are just superficial ideas is the most important part. It’s coming to terms with these ideas that sets us free.

I’m pretty sure.