My mother always mentions how I used to "bring home the stray dogs". By that, she means, I had a big heart - it always started out in the right place - but it
The other day, she said: "maybe you were supposed to be thrown into those situations, because their life was going to become so much better after meeting you."
But as I looked back, it didn't feel like that at all. Some of them even left much worse than when I found them.
I don't know if any of this is making sense, I just think about a few people regularly, and find myself having this pressing, consistent thought that I could have done so much more.
I could've said more. I could've said less.
Maybe if I wasn't so wrapped up in my own problems, I would've noticed more. Or seen more signs.
And now, it's not my place. I'm not the one that can make the difference.
But sometimes I wish I could be. And all the times, I just wish I would've done more, so I wouldn't be sitting here, wishing I still could.