As I sit in my bedroom, pitch dark except for the glow of my smartphone, I could not help but think of regret.
Now, with my oh so sunny disposition and delightful demeanor, how could I have any upsetting thoughts or regrets? I confess; I do. I regret letting that one kid cheat off my test in seventh grade because I thought it would increase my social standing of the middle school hierarchy. I regret not reading more books during my summer vacations- getting swept away in the lives of the characters in our favorite books, eventually becoming old friends. I regret not taking more chances at 16; taking too many at 19. I regret falling in love so capriciously … those words, “falling” “crush” are literal in their meaning. We get hurt, we inflict pain. I regret foolish choices with forever consequences.
Regrets can be small and silly, such as that year I thought I looked good with Marcia Brady hair. They can be overwhelming, like the 2000 election (c’mon, you chuckled a little)… Everyone experiences regret. If they say otherwise they are lying or do not know yet.
Each passing year, as my regrets pile up like leaves in autumn, I learn a little more along the way. I have learned of love that is selfless, miraculous, and consuming. I have learned if the gentlemen is a charmer, they are charming you for a reason (what are you up to sir?). I learned changing a newborn boy’s diaper requires the reflexes of a ninja. This road of mistakes brings me closer to my 28th year.
So here I am, with nothing but the romantic glow of my phone charging, having come back to square one (is there a square one? who lives there? is there a post office?)… Ugh, sorry, squirrel. Here I am, intentionally trying to remember regret. I still feel pangs of nostalgia; the should haves and what its… it seems like a lifetime ago in many of my memories. It is that thought that allows me to understand the most important thing I have learned.
I don’t know jack. I don’t know nada.
And you know what? I am okay with that.