My shrink told me to start looking at failures as products of reality instead of products of people.
The past is past, making what has happened to you definitively out of reach.
Doesn’t hold water.
The effort you put into trying to understand what the meaning behind the scar is doesn’t change the puncture.
Nothing can be unpicked, revised or done over again.
In a world of failures, consequences and realities we cannot control, can we possibly rid ourselves of the ferociously terrible pain of expectation?
Is there really such thing as losing?