Regret

(photo taken without permission from the post secret blog)

I was following my usual Monday morning protocol of browsing the Post Secret blog with a fresh cup of dark coffee when I came across this "secret". It's damaging one for me, for reasons only one other person knows. Every single aspect of it speaks to a decision I made 8 years ago at the fresh young age of 20. That decision undeniably would have altered the trajectory of my life. In a great way. Now 8 years later, I stumble upon this random person's secret on a website and am forced to ponder what regret means.

I hear a lot of people throw out the stock line that they don't believe in regret. I've been that person, many times over.

It's true, my decisions have led me to where I am, to my understanding of myself, of what I want and where I would like to be headed. I like that. I am a fan of where I am in my progression as a person, I'm excited to see what this life will bring.

However to say that I am not curious about what life could have looked like is not honest. To say I wouldn't go back and make a different decision (regardless of sacrificing the awareness and existence of present-day me) is not honest.

Without thinking, I would absolutely rewind 365 x 8 (sue me for not opening up my calculator on my celly) and ride out that decision. Would it change the way I think about myself, my decisions and my growth? Absolutely. But that chance has to be measured by what I could have gained in the process.

The only thing I can take from this stark realization that life could have (and probably should have) looked different is that I must live much more pragmatically. This random person's "secret" is a reminder of the amazing outcomes of seeming haphazard decisions. This "secret" means I must be aware how delicate people and opportunities are in life.

Ironically, it was that fateful decision 8 years ago that allows me to even understand the full depth of regret. I might not have never known. Scarily, I still might not have never known what I was missing. Crazy.

(note: I'm aware at how vague this post is... don't care. Check out below if you want to know who this blog is for :P)

Sometimes I wish we all walked around with this sign hanging from our necks, so I wouldn't feel like the only one who has blown some really important things in his/her life.

Regret is funny, and sad, but still funny. So much is said about moving on, "whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger" answers to pacify those gut wrenching moments, where right and wrong stands before you and you dig deep to find you don't have the strength. At least I haven't had the strength. More times than I am comfortable with.

More than anything, the things that I have done to lose or push away those who meant and continue to mean a lot to me, hurts the most. I think I'm found at times asking what if I had just done a little more, explained a little less, been more vulnerable.... It is those questions, those "what if's" that seem to haunt long after a situation has come and passed. Who knows these things? Even more, who can afford to dwell on them? But that's the nature of kicking oneself I suppose.

I'm just looking for a way to stop the beating.