There’s a familiar ache that arrives uninvited; it comes in quiet, slow, and nostalgic. It might be triggered by a song you haven’t heard in years, the scent of someone else’s perfume, or just the right kind of silence on a slow afternoon.

Then, suddenly, you’re back in that memory. That moment. That person.

We’ve all been there, lost in a spiral of what could’ve been. It’s almost cinematic, the way our minds loop old conversations, reframe decisions, or rewrite endings that never happened.

But why do we do this? Why do we keep replaying stories that no longer exist—especially the ones that never even fully began?

Memory with Rose-Tinted Glasses

Our brains are wired for storytelling, and memory is far from an exact science. More often than not, we don’t recall events as they truly happened; instead, we remember how they made us feel.

The mind, ever drawn to meaning and narrative, has a particular fondness for mystery. When something ends without closure, it becomes fertile ground for our imagination.

We start to romanticize the “what if” because it holds endless possibilities.

Unlike reality, which is often tangled, unpredictable, and unfinished, the fantasy in our minds is curated. It’s neater, simpler, and sweetly unresolved.

In consideration, research indicates that while we may vividly recall the emotional core of an experience, studies show that the actual details can be distorted or even invented over time. Which explains why we so often idealize past relationships, fleeting encounters, or missed opportunities. It’s not the exact facts we cling to, rather the way they made us feel.

Rent-Free, But Not Always Welcome

When life feels uncertain or routine, it’s tempting to retreat into the comfort of an alternate universe where you said the right thing, took the risk, and sent the message. In that world, maybe they loved you back. Maybe you chose each other. Or you would have gone the other path upon the forked road.

Of course, living in the past too long can be a trap. “What ifs” are sticky. They can keep you from showing up fully in the present, from saying yes to real people and real possibilities. Sometimes, we cling to unfinished stories because we’re afraid of starting new ones.

But it’s also okay to visit those memories—briefly. To honor them, learn from them, and then gently let them go. Not everything is meant to be revisited, but some echoes are simply part of us now.

So, What Now?

So, when you catch yourself daydreaming about someone or something from the past, ask: “Am I holding on to them or the feeling they gave me?” And could that feeling exist elsewhere, within myself or someone, something new?

We romanticize the “what ifs” because we’re human. Because we feel deeply as some stories, even unfinished ones, shape us. But the next time a memory knocks, maybe don’t invite it to move back in. Let it sit with you for a moment. Then thank it for visiting and keep going.

After all, there’s still so much waiting to be seen and written.

H/T: https://www.newyorker.com/