Regrets

I believe I've aged decades in the past year. I'm not entirely sure what brought this about, I'm 24 years old and hardly a child anymore, and haven't been for 5 years or so. Chronologically, at least. Mentally, however, it's a whole different story. I've been slowly realizing this over the last several months, but I've only recently had the epiphany that made me really realize it. Stupidly enough, it was TV that brought it home. Well, TV and movies. I've seen a few things recently that I had last seen only a year or two ago, but I had a much different reaction to them now. This epiphany led me wonder just what it was that brought about such a striking change. I guess you could say my outlook has broadened. I've learned to see things from a different angle, from several different angles. I don't see just black and white anymore, I know that the world mostly exists in shades of gray, and what happens in that gray is rarely pleasant. I've learned far too much about people, about the good and the bad and the often sad. Compared to a lot of people's, my life has been positively Rockwellian. The trouble with my parents last winter really shook me up, but only because there had previously been nothing but tranquility. Well, okay, tranquility is maybe not quite the right word, but there hadn't been anything serious or even all that upsetting prior to The Event. Since that episode forced me kicking and screaming to grow up and join the real world, my eyes have been opened. I've started to delve into the morass of human frailty and limitations, and learned far more than I wanted to about what humanity is capable of.

Now, remember, when I say I've learned, I mean I've read. I'm living in Small Town, USA, where people are still old-fashioned enough to actually be nice to each other and therefore I have still never seen the terrible things with my own eyes that I read about daily (for which I can only be thankful). However, while a picture is worth a thousand words, a few hundred words can be quite effective as well. Words can well portray human suffering and cruelty, and the emotions and reactions associated with them. I was an English Literature major in college, so words are my bread and butter, so to say. I may not as talented at wielding them as other people, but I am a connoisseur of them and very good at critical analysis (thank you, my dear alma mater), so I know that of which I speak. But I digress. To get back to my main point, when I say that I know, I do, but I still don't really know. That's probably a good thing, because I'm sure that there are too many things that once seen can never be taken away. There are too many good people screwed up because they saw or did something that can never be taken back. So to sum up, I guess you could say that I've finally grown up. Peter Pan flies no longer.

All of this soul searching had had another side effect. I've also started to look at my own life with a much more critical eye. Since J moved out I've had too much time alone with just my own brain for company, and I've been reviewing various aspects of my past, things I've done and decisions I've made, and discovered that unfortunately, all too often these have led to regret. Oh, nothing serious, no life or death situations, just small everyday things that could have gone one way but instead went another due to my choice made at the time. I wish that I had done some things differently because I think they would have been better, more enjoyable; or at least I would be able to regret having done something rather than not having done something. Do you know what I mean? It's better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. I ask permission. Or say nothing at all. And miss out on what might have happened. Instead nothing happens. I'm a very safe person. I don't take risks. Ever. I miss out on so much because I'm afraid. Not so much of danger, of actually, physically, being hurt, but mostly of stupid social things, like of failure or being embarrassed or put in an awkward situation or just generally humiliating myself. I think that is my fatal flaw: I care too much about what people (even complete strangers) think of me. I care too much about my image. I need to get over this so I can live. Because right now, what I am doing, I don't think qualifies as living (italics necessary). Life is not a dress rehearsal, and as my sister reminded me just a few weeks ago, we only live once. I need to do things while I'm young and able, and not let my fears stand in the way.

It's a brand new day.