Once, in a record store, I met a girl. She had an extra ticket to a light music concert and invited me to go with her. I replied that I preferred classical music and declined. A moment later, I regretted it—having the chance to meet a lovely girl and letting it slip away. Over time, the memory faded.
Twenty years passed. One day, my wife casually asked if anyone had ever offered me a concert ticket in a record store. Suddenly, the fog of memory lifted, and she asked, “Was it me you told you preferred classical music?” Life can be strange like that. That girl’s name was Tetiana.