It might have been.

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, It might have been."

John Greenleaf Whittier.

I think and reflect. Of what might have been.  Of what could have been.  But of what will never be.  And I guess, those thoughts are ones of melancholic sadness.  It is always hard to think of the loss of the potential.  Especially when we know exactly what that potential was or could have been.

It could have been. It might have been. It never will be.