You are at an old colleague's leaving drinks, or scrolling through a feed late in the evening, and the feeling arrives before the thought does. A man you started level with has a title you don't have, a house you couldn't afford, a life that photographs well. Somewhere along the way he pulled ahead, and you missed the moment it happened. You feel it as a verdict. He is winning. You are behind.
It is a powerful feeling, and it is built on something that does not exist. There is no track. There is no starting gun, no shared finish line, no official standing you have slipped down. You have compared your position in a race, and the race was never run.
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