A Note About Regret

Warning: There’s a ramble about life below, written and recorded for my sanity and retrospection. It has very little to do with anyone or anything else, and it doesn’t really have a clear train of thought, so feel free to move on to the next post or amuse yourself in other places on the Internet.

I had an absolute blast last night, but at some point between the toasts and dancing I stopped and started to wonder why I was there. Was partying going to help my career, or help me achieve my goals?

Then I got mad at myself because I just turned 24 and should be enjoying every single shwastyfaced moment of life.

That ill-timed moment of introspection was caused by all the questions that have been haunting my nights. By all rights I should be completely content with lovely people around me, a roof over my head, access to cheap alcohol and great food, and fun jobs.

But I feel displaced even though I’m in the country I was born in. I like my jobs but are they what I really want? Am I in the country (or the continent) I want to be in? Do I even want a family of my own like everyone seems to expect me to? All these questions because…

I’m afraid of regrets. The opportunities I should have taken, the places I should have moved to, the people I should have met, the boys I should have kissed; they’re the cause of my questions. They are my demons.

And yet, the fear of regret is more powerful than any actual regrets I have. The questions I feel like I have to answer right now come from that fear of making the wrong decision and having to live with it.

But regret loses its power with time and experience. The demons go away with the realization that you can flip a situation for the better; decide to take life in one mad rush and go for something big. Not ‘big’ as in drink an entire bottle of Belvedere and crash a wedding (although that may be it for someone out there). I mean move to a different country with $1000 in the bank, or dump your dead-end job and sink or swim in your dream career, or take the plunge with your partner and decide to move in together.

So… I’m still trying to figure out whether I have big regrets, because everything seems to have turned out okay. And may even end up for the better, depending on what I do next.

-end long convoluted ramble-

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