Opportunities come and go, with variable success at grasping them for what they could be worth. Some opportunities can go into the symbolic ethereal mist, to disappear, never to resurface again, never to have the opportunity to have that particular opportunity again. Maybe it was a missed opportunity, or one used wisely or poorly. Whatever one had done with it, for win or loss, to build upon it, or sinks with mishandling. Then another one comes along and one forgets the ones that pass into oblivion or legend. There is always another.
Opportunities come, what did I do with them? Sometimes with guilt that it wasn’t completed, or flawed, or taken to the ideal, in any area of opportunity: work, play, hobby, relationships, human decency, being a good person despite the pressures from inside and out. A flawed life but which is viewed from the eye of perfection, somehow tainted by the eye of perfection, and not seeing the good that was possibly done, but with the possibility to move onward and upward.