In between

Perhaps there is a land of the middle of things, stopped in the middle, nor the beginning, nor the end, neither here, nor there.
A place of the first names which we never use, of the relationships that we have not gone up where we wanted, of the roads from where we came back from, the songs and movies which we have not seen the end, of the apples that we threw half eaten.
They say that last bite from the plate means “the strength”.
Are all these things left in the air, experiences which would mean something good but we preferred not to live them?
I hope that all the things that “could be” have a place of their own, where they remains that full moment, the first continuous, endless.....