And what if...?

When we use this question "What if..?" we most often consider our regrets. We speak in the past tense. We wonder what life would be like now had we done things differently before.
What if my brother had admitted that it was he who let the dog out front?
What if I had left the cake in the oven longer?
What if I hadn't struck out so much?
What if I had tried harder?
What if I had been on time?
What if I had asked her?
What if I had done things the way I dreamed I could have?
In doing this, we consider that things could be better if we hadn't screwed up. We sulk; we look for sympathy; we dwell on what could have been.

Few times we ask ourselves this question in considering our potential.
What if I order the lasagna?
What if the leaves raked themselves?
What if I drink too much?
What if I stop at three?
What if I run away?
What if I wait?
What if I try again?
When we ask like this, we long for something different. We consider that things can still be better than they are. We dream; we look for answers; we decide what can be.

"What if...?" offers despair; and "What if...?" offers hope. I think one could not exist without the other, but do we need both despair and hope? To learn? To desire? To move on? To dream?

What if we did not ask ourselves these questions? What if we were apathetic toward how things have been, or content with how things will be? And what if I were satisfied exactly where I am now?

I think it would be over.
So if you're interested in the end or if you just don't care, then forget about it. Whatever, you know. Otherwise, what if you do something... today? What if you offer me a back rub?