The Middle Seat

I was cloaked in sadness over something that did not happen,

something that did not transpire,

something that almost was,

something that could have, would have been the demise of us all

I was sick in my gut at the thought of it,

even though there were only visages in this mind of mine,

even though there were many reasons to be grateful instead of queasy 

I remembered how to cry,

for the first time in a very long time,

not for loss,

not for grief,

not for all the things you usually cry for,

but for what could have been,

what might have been,

I was soaked with tears of gratitude,

of gratefulness for ancillary decisions,

drenched and indebted to an unknown angel