It’s funny how the narrative we spin after a clash can feel like rewriting the map of what happened. People tend to highlight the parts that make sense to them, the details that soothe or justify their feelings, and over time those threads become the story we live with. In a way, each retelling is a little act of rewriting the past, smoothing the edges, giving shape to the chaos. It’s a quiet, almost subconscious, editing process that turns raw memory into something that fits our sense of self. It doesn’t erase the real fight, but it reshapes the way we see it, and that can be a strange kind of healing.