My life is the sum of all my decisions, the good and the bad. I would like to believe that I take the mistakes and learn from them, making me a better version of me - or at least a more resilient one - than I was before the mistake.
“Sometimes we have to stop being scared and just go for it. Either it'll work or it won't. That is life.”
In this light, then, I have no regrets.
Well, that’s what I tell myself. But the truth is, I have one regret. One that is so big and so intense, it always hangs over me. It appears when I least expect it, always taunting me. Always mocking me. Always showing me what a piece of shit I am.
That’s what I feel like when the thoughts come.
I’m not going to write down what my regret is. No. I will spare you that. But when I was young I made a decision that impacted what I am today. Most people will tell you that it was a good decision, and what I am today is by and large really good, but I often wonder “what if...”
What if I had taken that other path, the one I still feel was “my path”. What if...
But I was too much of a coward to go down that path. Hmmm, well, that’s what I tell myself. I blame myself for that cowardice. I should have had the ball to go for it, to suffer a little more for the goal I wanted to achieve, but I didn’t push myself.
And now many, many years later, it still haunts me. I have since faced my fears many times over, but this one time...
No. I don’t think so.
I can’t let go of that.