What faults of mine have you inherited? Do you hear the echo carried in the wind, whispering your name off some distant shore of a shared memory? And, do you look back at them lovingly? Wondering if maybe, just maybe, if I had been a better man, see some future that would never be come to life, sucking in the air straight from the lungs of a failure into something much more? And do you ever remember the words whispered to each other as the sheets, dampened with our sweat, clung to our bodies that summer day after a fight (and who says make-up-sex isn’t the best?)? Do you wear the scars like a road map, keeping score of where you’ve been and not…