Reversible

The first thing I thought of was cassette tapes.
And VHS.
Side A.
Side B.
You couldn’t rush them.
You had to stop, eject, flip, and begin again.
Sometimes you rewound too far.
Sometimes the tape tangled and needed patience — a pencil, steady hands, a second chance.
Nothing was instant.
Nothing disposable.
Life felt reversible then.
Mistakes could be rewound.
Songs replayed until the lyrics lived inside you.
Memories wore grooves, not glitches.
Now everything streams forward.
No pause long enough to think.
No rewind for words said too fast.
No satisfying click that says: start again, but differently.
If I could flip a cassette called Life,
I’d listen to the other side —
the one where silence mattered,
where waiting was normal,
where meaning didn’t buffer.
Maybe reversible isn’t about going back at all.
Maybe it’s about remembering how to slow down,
press stop,
and choose what we play next.

💫Maggie

The Afterlove Voice 💫