I don’t want to live a life of regret. It’s a constant fight, letting go of the past vs letting it overwhelm me. I am not too good at avoiding the regret though. It’s always chasing me, snapping at my heels, grabbing at my clothes. nasty little bugger it is.
I wish I had done a lot of things differently. I made the wrong choices, took the wrong paths, asked the wrong questions. I don’t regret where I am now, being a mother, watching my son grow up. I love that lousy kid like a lunatic.
Still, I should have done more interesting and exciting things with my life before Ry, taken advantage of my youth and my flexibility. I could have traveled, like I’ve always wanted, like I used to dream about, just me, my backpack, a notebook, and a lot of unknowns. I didn’t have the money or the time or the motivation or the emotional support from my family or something. Excuses, I know, but at the time, they seemed like valid reasons to stay where I was and not take any chances.
I’ve moved around a lot, all over this country, and done a bit of traveling here and there, scratched at that wandering itch. I can’t deny that. I HAVE taken a lot of chances, often in the most insane of ways. But those risks…well, they’ve never done much other than make me long for somewhere else. And of course make that itch of mine even more intense. Somehow, over the years, it seems my arms have gotten shorter, so now I can’t reach it at all.
I guess it feels like if I had lived more, I would have more to offer to Ry right now.
Of course, I do need to realize that even if I HAD done those things, traveled and met new people, had the world in my pocket, I would still feel unfulfilled, still look back and think “well, why didn’t I do this? or that? all wrong, cjm, all wrong.” Regret and what ifs are very slippery slopes and lead to nothing good or productive.
I can only take what I know and move forward, slogging through the mud, in super slow-motion, with 50-lb weights on my ankles. Just keep on keepin’ on, right? What I didn’t do shouldn’t stop me from what I can still do. Who says that I can’t travel with Ry? Who says that we can’t experience the world together? Maybe that’s better than anything I could have done by myself years ago, when I was young and foolish and believed the world revolved around me. Now I’m old and foolish and am certain the world revolves around me. We can be an unstoppable force on earth, me and my little fam.
For a few minutes there, before I sat down and wrote this, I was in knots. that old familiar feeling. twitching and anxious and on the verge of throwing up. I seriously considered just walking out of work, getting on the train to Logan and buying a ticket for the farthest destination I could afford. so long and thanks for all the fish. you can quit the crazies, but the crazies never quit you.
Writing this out helped me calm the eff down. I can be such the drama queen. christ almighty. I’d sure feel like an ass as I got off the plane in Buffalo (cause see, that would be the farthest place I could afford), thinking “hmm. I maybe might have acted a little silly back in Boston. hmm…”
- big business