I’ve always thought that I’ve had no regrets. I’m too young. Too boring. Too introverted to have regrets.
But every now and again something happens to remind me of every regret. Every single little thing that I wish I had done. Big things. Small things. Not shouting back at that person, not being more rebellious or experimental.
Maybe i havent done it because im too scared.
Or too smart.
Even too lazy.
Until this realisation occurs in my almost blissful existance. I push back every regret, in small dark place in the back of my mind which may flood open any time.
I live in peaceful ignorance until it opens once more, only living with more regrets.