The organised chaos

The art of regret

I have had much to think about for the past few weeks, which explains the radio silence. Inky thoughts swirling in my head, breaking through the surface once in a while.

Do you regret anything in your life? A lost love, a missed opportunity, a sad goodbye, anything?

I do, although I know that it’s really pointless and a waste of my time to regret. The energy that I deploy to think about the past and what could have been can be put to better use. But me being me, an emo baby way past her angsty youth, I sometimes wander about the what-could-have-beens.

For instance, could my stint at Ass Pee Hedge have been longer and happier if I had changed my attitude or if I had a better editor? If I had reined in my jaded feelings, could I have been a better writer? If I had not thought of it as my life, my dream job, could I have accepted anything less?

Another regret of mine is how I lingered over failed romances that were clearly past their expiry dates. I was excellent at pining over those who had wrung the life out of me, and who subsequently left me alone to pick up the pieces. I was terrible at mending myself, hopeless at moving on. I wish I had the strength and tenacity to admit that it was over and face the world bravely again.

Is there anything that you regret about yourself, your life, your past?