I suppose it is, at that. For a few reasons, really. I never much considered the more obviously sad one in my life, but I do wonder, sometimes, if I might have...if things could have been better somehow.

[If he might have been able to actually talk to his parents beyond perfunctory greetings and conversations where needed, if he might have been able to ever understand his mother...there were a lot of "if's" in this situation by his account, and not a lot of answers, easy or otherwise.]

I suppose that they might have, now that I have had ample time to really think of it. But hindsight does that in nearly everything I've found. They say that no time passes here. It is so strange to think that if I ever return home, I will have died days before my parents even know about it. That seems like a disservice to them, really.