Happened across a photograph yesterday of those people with whom I was supposed to be. It was a large group, much larger than the one I was in; everyone inside was smiling, and the photograph was captioned: Getting ready for… One could almost sense the excitement among them. Then I saw among the faces, one face of which I have always been enamored, and I wondered what it would be like if I were there. I should have been there. But something happened along the way; or maybe it happened at the outset; at what was to be the bright beginning of a new life. I guess that life just isn’t for me. And I imagine that if I were there, in the photograph, I wouldn’t feel excited at all. The only excitement that could be had was that one face in the many of which I have always been enamored.