of invisible second chances

I could have given a better answer,  I thought to myself just a while  (longer than a moment,  shorter than minutes)  after having exited his room.  I could have given a better answer.  How many times we find ourselves thinking, feeling, living this — I could have given a better answer. Could – but didn’t.  And to learn to live with this little regret – one that amounts to literally NOTHING in the Grand Scheme of Things;  to painfully watch how it unfurls inside of you,  then finds a way out,  crawls on your skin until you are covered,  completely,  in its inglorious cobweb-y silver thread. You are itching. Continually.  I could have given a better answer, and I must stop thinking about it.