May

I pause at the window. The one where things do not look real and I feel like I belong to another world. I consider what my life would be like if it had been me instead of her. Your mother would have loved me. And your sister. I would have loved them back. Nothing would have made sense, which is how I like my things (no, or any).

Success is relative, and so I think that maybe I would have been happy. But there are dimensions to you that I suspect exist. I might have brought out the worst in you. I am good at doing that, usually.

I went to hang the towel up and the bar crashed to the ground.

Instead of picking it up, I walked away.
Someone else's problem.

Not mine.