I spent so much time thinking about regret. Regret and its accompanying conviction that there is a perfect, placid life, one’s own alternate existence, pristine and simple, existing in a neighboring reality in which certain turns in the road were never set upon. And it isn’t true. Any of it. I knew that. I had learned it. But it is an irresistible fantasy, if only because it implies we have some control over our fates.
I spent so much time thinking about regret. Regret and its accompanying conviction that there is a perfect, placid life, one’s own alternate existence, pristine and simple, existing in a neighboring reality in which certain turns in the road were never set upon. And it isn’t true. Any of it. I knew that. I had learned it. But it is an irresistible fantasy, if only because it implies we have some control over our fates.
