The Tide of Regret

I cannot. I will not. But fuck- the visions of their face, the way they looked at me, and the “almost” hits somewhere deep inside of me. A small ache starts to creep up through my bones, and I can see everything I never had. 

The truth? I would never have it because it was never meant to stay. The dreams and the wants are all products of my love and my power. They are a direct reflection of the truly insane and beautiful way I love. So maybe for a small moment, I let myself be sad, but after that, I take back my power and the truth. I don’t miss them; I miss me. I give that love back to me, I create the moments, Memories and life that I dreamed up with them because and for no other reason than I fucking deserve it. I deserve the love I so freely usher from myself onto them. I deserve to be met with my own kindness, empathy, and understanding. 

So, do I regret my decisions? No, yes, maybe. Because what is truly infinite? Not shit. 

It is all three answers and I am never just one person- set and definite because life demands growth and for all the chaos and battling parts of me, giving those parts and all pieces of me the space to exist and reconcile is healing and lovely. Even if it feels exhausting most days, at least I don’t shove them back in me and let them devour me from the inside. 

So maybe- I cannot and I will not isn’t the answer. Maybe it’s get fucked, nerd; I’ll feel whatever I want, whenever I want. Because maybe it was meant to be that way and that’s who I am. Maybe Tuesday morning me is empowered and on top of the world with oxytocin and endorphins surging through me, and I’ve never regretted a day in my life because I’m so self-assured. But Sunday night me may feel every single decision I’ve ever made and weep so hard over what’s ifs and should haves that my eyes burn and my throat is raw. And maybe- maybe Wednesday afternoon me, who is contemplative but steady- the maybe sits with her as she watches everyone laugh and continue on while a piece of her roams the ether with that “maybe.” And I think that’s all fucking okay.