False Memory.

It’s not quite regret. I can’t put my finger on it.

It’s that morning after feeling. Like I did something wrong but I can’t quite place it.

It’s small pieces of memory that may or may not have actually happened. My mind has a way of tricking me.

Tricking me just enough that I find myself needing to retrace my steps–where could I have messed up?

And usually I come up empty handed. Sometimes I recall some small, tiny misstep and think, “Oh, that must have been it.”

And it was really nothing to worry about.

Or other times. Other times I was right to worry.

A casual word here and there, unintentional “mean girl” moments. And I tell myself to watch it. I tell myself enough.

Until I slip up again.

* * *

This post was written as a Just Write exercise. A good challenge to get the rust off and find my creativity once more. Bear with me while I attempt to find it!

Check out others’  Just Write posts here.

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