Title from: Thin - Aquilo [Spotify | Youtube].
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For someone with a self-loathing issue as bad as mine, regret has no longer become a foreign issue. It’s something that I have to deal with every single day of my life, and not rarely more than once. At the end of the day, I would always find a way to point back at myself, to go - God, why the fuck did you fuck up?
I regretted a lot of things in life, and I envy someone who could just go, “I liked every minute of my journey and I regret nothing!” despite whether it’s a total bullshit or if they actually lived that happy tale. Point is, there are a lot of parts that I would love, or even be dying to change, if only I had the chance.
Every night before I go to bed, I would always spark millions of what if’s. That’s quite common, I believe, and I’m glad I’m not alone. It’s really crazy how you’d immediately know you should have done something else or even the complete opposite the second an event happened. And it keeps haunting you. Every minute. Every living step. Never giving you a break.
Am I content with my current life?
Quite hypocritical for me to answer either way. I’ve mentioned in my earlier post that I’m happy at where I’m at and that’s all that matters, but at the same time, i’d be lying to myself if I didn’t say that I wish things were different.
Regrets for me come in many shapes. It can be something so simple, like a line I should have said to make me funnier when I met up with friends, or an opinion I should have just voiced out in order to get my way, or just simply letting go.
Fuck - the regret of letting go is the worst one there is.
Probably that’s also the reason why I tend to hang on to the most toxic parts of me, just to be able to feel something and not regret of not doing that when things are over. I’ve had my fair share of toxic bond, from relationships to friendships, and of course I did not regret ALL of that - but the last relationship I was in I surely did, God that was fucking horrible - but most of the time, I hung on because I was afraid. I was afraid of cursing myself for making a stupid decision when I knew I could have endured.
Endure.
Endure.
Endurance and perseverance are the keys.
Those two things are the things I always hang on too in life for all the good reasons, but also the bad ones. I always thought that by enduring and working twice as hard as something that failed, I could make some magic and turned things around. Most of the times I was wrong. But still, the fear of hating myself for choosing the wrong decision lingered.
I wish I could make a positive closing statement, saying I’ve grown mature and I knew better now, but unfortunately my indecisive ass still finds herself hanging on a thin thread every now and then.
Should I endure although it kills me, or should I let go with the risk of regret?
