Would you change your past?

As a kid, whenever someone asked what superpower I’d want, I’d always say time travel. Flying felt too frightening, and invisibility seemed like everyone’s go-to answer. But the idea of moving through time—back and forth, slipping into moments—fascinated me.

Whenever I faced even the smallest embarrassment, I’d wish to go back and change something, just so I wouldn’t have to cringe at my own mistakes. Disappointments, I could live with. But regrets, they were harder to bear.

A friend once told me I dwell too much in the past, and I can’t deny it. I’ve always thought about going back, about catching a glimpse of my choices before they hardened, or seeing the faces of people before time and distance turned them into memories. In those moments, there’s a quiet longing, a feeling that if I could just reach back and say the right thing, hold a hand a little longer, or take a different path, maybe I’d feel whole.

But now I wonder if setting things right is less about changing what happened and more about forgiving myself. Because, in the end, all my yesterdays are what brought me here, to this moment.

Before the Coffee gets Cold - Novel by Toshikazu Kawaguchi