At the café table, I fiddled with my iPhone as I waited for my long-lost friend.
My thoughts travelled to the morning’s drive when I noticed how the barren gray twigs aspired to swell and brown sloshy fields appealed to green. A hard relationship anticipated similar renewal.
This overcast April day provided a sprig of hope—and a place to grow. I hoped the relationship would experience the same energizing life.
We spotted each other and instinctively embraced—not just each other, but our lost friendship, the past fourteen years, and the regrets we would later serve over lunch.
I had prepared to politely share history without resurrecting regrets, never thinking we’d be so comfortable and open. Hesitancies, hindrances, and human errors eased out on the table.
Later that evening, I reflected on my regrets: chances not taken and words not spoken, decisions not made and dreams not pursued, and the relationships not in my life.
Regret teaches us a lot, if we allow it.
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