The word "Would" has been used in text below three times.(The cases I bolded them) The first one is:
1. But however I chose to remember it, that event would change everything.
Could you please tell me if it has been used in "imagined situation" or not?
The second and third ones are:
2. The words of the second entry would not obscure the words of the first.
3. Both would remain, my memories set down alongside his.
Could you please explain to me if they refer to the past tense or present tense?
I write what I remember: There was one point when he was forcing me from the car, that he had both hands pinned above my head and my shirt rose up. I asked him to let me fix it but it was like he couldn’t hear me. He just stared at it like a great big jerk. It’s a good thing I’m as small as I am. If I was larger, at that moment, I would have torn him apart. [...]There was a message message from Shawn. An apology. But he’d apologized already, in my room. I I had never known Shawn to apologize twice. I
I retrieved my journal and I wrote another entry, opposite the first, in which I revised the memory. It was a misunderstanding, I wrote. If I’d asked him to stop, he would have. But
But however I chose to remember it, that event would change everything. Reflecting Reflecting on it now I’m amazed by it, not by what happened, but that I wrote wrote what happened. That from somewhere inside that brittle shell—in that that girl made vacant by the fiction of invincibility—there was a spark left. The
The words of the second entry would not obscure the words of the first. Both Both would remain, my memories set down alongside hishis. There was a boldness boldness in not editing for consistency, in not ripping out either the one page page or the other. To admit uncertainty is to admit to weakness, to powerlessness powerlessness, and to believe in yourself despite both. It is a frailty, but in this this frailty there is a strength: the conviction to live in your own mind, and not not in someone else’s. I have often wondered if the most powerful words I wrote wrote that night came not from anger or rage, but from doubt: I don’t know. I just don’t knowI don’t know. Not knowing for certain, but refusing to give way to those who claim certainty, was a privilege I had never allowed myself I just don’t know. My life was narrated for me
Educated by others. Their voices were forceful, emphatic, absolute. It had never occurred to me that my voice might be as strong as theirs.Tara Westover