The Solace in Regret

Regret – I’ve always told myself to participate in every relationship in life without that emotion hovering over my head. And it works. There isn’t anything that has happened that I really regret. Sure, I’ve had my fair share of lapses in judgment, of people that could have (and should have) been avoided, of being caught up in the heat of the moment, of saying something I shouldn’t have, of NOT saying something when I should have. But regret is not the emotion I feel, when I think back on these things. It was part of the process of growing up (which is still happening). They all, in some way or the other, helped to make me the person I am today.

I’m not saying they all helped positively. In fact, if you ask my friends they’ll tell you how different I was a few years ago. By different, I mean happy and carefree. This post is inspired by what someone said to me today, about a time when she was so happy that she can’t look at pictures of herself from that age now, because they make her feel old and tired. I used to be like her, I too had a phase where I was so happy being me, that my skin glowed and smiles came naturally. People I knew at that age described me and my life as “uncomplicated”.

Would I take back the events that occurred in my life (the ones that make me unlike that teenager self) between then and now, or change them in any way? My first response is to say no. That would go hand-in-hand with the first line of this post, wouldn’t it? But then, I think about it and I think about it some more. And the answer I come up with is fuzzy, unclear. Which makes me wonder – what IS regret?

When I ask myself, “Would you go back and warn your 16 year old self against going to ‘Cherry on the Top’ everyday?” I’d probably say yes, because it ended in something so messed up, in something so unpleasant, that it broke off a part of my spirit. But if I DO go back and change those days – it would mean taking back my first kiss; it would mean not having a developed sense of ‘opposition to unfaithfulness’ as I have now; it would mean not knowing that I’m not one to be trampled upon.

When I ask myself, “Would you go back in time to tell your 18 year old self to not answer the phone on that November night?” again I’d probably say yes. It was a phone call that led up to the days and months of my life when I stopped being myself. I buried my lame randomness and child-like questions, things that were trademark of me, and instead became an older, bitter, nasty and seemingly more mature stranger. But again, if I DO take them back – it would mean not knowing my capacity to endure emotional blackmail; it would mean not understanding what pseudo-maturity can do to me; it would mean not being a better judge of character now.

I ask myself, “Would you go back to that night in October, 2009 and do anything differently?” and once more I think to say yes. It ended with my heart broken and pain that was all-pervasive, which in turn effectively ended my friendship as I knew it with one of the best, most transparent people I have met. Nothing will ever go back to being exactly the same, no matter how much he or anyone else assures me. And it all began on the fated October night. But taking that day and night back – it would mean losing out on the best, almost-perfect (albeit brief) relationship I have ever known; it would mean never knowing such a happy and comfortable presence in my life; it would mean not having the knowledge that I COULD fall hopelessly in love.

Which makes me wonder – does anyone know if they truly regret anything in their lives? And does thinking about changing something, however fleetingly it may be, mean that we regret what occurred? Every thing that takes place in our lifetime has a hand in shaping us to become the people we are. I’ve written an entire post and I have no idea what regret really means, but I’m quite sure thinking about changing something doesn’t mean I regret, it just means I’m thinking a little too much about what COULD have happened. Doesn’t it?

Dear Boy...

FOREWORD:
When I was 13 years old, I read two articles in Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul. One was called “Dear Boy…” and the other “Dear Girl…” – both of these letters addressed to no one in particular, but instead to a person they had never met and had hopes of one day meeting. Inspired by them, I wrote a similar letter of my own to the someone I hoped to meet someday. Last week, I found that letter in an old file at the back of my cupboard and it caught my eye. Coupled with the songs I was listening to (Michael Buble’s “Haven’t Met You Yet”, followed by John Mayer’s “Love Song for No One”) at the moment that I came across it, I was inspired to edit the letter and make appropriate subtractions/additions so as to make it suitable for the age I am at now. As I came to realise, I didn’t have to modify it too much because not much has changed in the last seven years. And yet, a lot has.

This letter is for the hope – the hope to find a right-righter-rightest someone, with whom there will be a future so joyful that we will sail breezily through it all, including and especially the troubled waters.




Dear Boy,

There will come a time, not too long from now, when we will meet and fall in love. When that time comes, I pray you will love me for what I am and not expect me to change to suit you. I hope that when we meet, we will hear the music from violins and saxophones that people say one hears when one falls in love. I hope also, that in addition to that tingly musical anticipation, we feel comfortable enough with each other to say and do whatever it is we want.

I hope you will remember that 'Love Story' is my feel-good book, and that chocolate does the trick for me every time – whether I am angry, sad or happy. I hope you will understand that when I get angry for whatever reason, I prefer to walk long distances alone to calm myself. Please know that there will be times when I have had a bad day, and all I’ll need from you is a long hug until I feel ready to let go. I hope you will be there to give me that hug, and just let me BE until I am prepared to talk about what’s on my mind. If and when I cry, I hope you will not make too big a deal, and instead understand why I am crying, and not call me immature and get annoyed.

I hope you will remember that I like giving and receiving little notes and gifts for no occasion, to convey everything and nothing. I hope you will remember that I like white carnations, and that I like different colors at different times, depending on my mood. I hope you understand that sometimes I crave for particular foods, that sometimes I dance to music only I can hear and sing at the top of my voice when I ride my scooter, and that sometimes I like to color in children’s coloring books. I hope you don’t get alarmed and understand my need to show affection violently sometimes. Please know that although I am a huge sucker for important dates, like birthdays and anniversaries, I will do my best to not get mad if you forget them. I hope you hold my hand and shower me with kisses, because I am a hand-holding-and-kissing girl, through and through.

I hope you won’t get angry when I start humming randomly in the middle of a conversation – it doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening to what you said, I’m just like that. And I hope you understand my tendency to digress and remember random, inane unrelated things (like lines from F.R.I.E.N.D.S) and say them out loud in the middle of an intense heated discussion. The volume and manner in which I laugh takes some getting used to, I hope you won't be too embarrassed. While I am a huge fan of fancy candle-lit dates, please know that it doesn’t matter to me – I will be equally comfortable at a road-side dhaba, as long as I can spend that time with you. When we go out partying, I hope you will stop me from drinking too much, and take care of me if I do. I hope that you will make me laugh, look after me when I’m sick, be trustworthy and honest and faithful and understand my utter inability to communicate and express myself sometimes. I hope you will respond to my random lame stupidity with random lame stupidity of your own.

I hope you don’t think I’m asking too much of you. I hope you understand that I am anxious and eager, and a little bit hopeful. Please know that I am a trying person to be with, but I promise you I will do my best to make our love work. I would like you to share with me what is on your mind always, and I will try to do the same. I hope that we are what the other one always hoped for, and that our love transcends all inadequacies and deficiencies. Thank you for listening to my random ramblings, they’re a bit much I should think.

- M