Regrets

I wasn’t sure what I was going to write for my post for today.  I’ve been feeling so empty, I wasn’t sure what I would have to say – if anything.  I get this way sometimes.  The flame that is me seems to waver, rippling and dipping in an unseen draft from beyond.  My interests wane, and I feel sad.  Not deeply depressed but sad enough to want to cry at the drop of a hat – or a memory.

I read a beautiful poem by a woman who uses words like a painter uses paint, and this poem was about a memory – memories – of people who loved her and whom she realized she loved in return even if she didn’t admit to it at the time.

I know I don’t regret the births of my sons.  I do, however, regret the circumstances surrounding the birth of the second – I locked myself into an abusive marriage thinking it was the best for the child.  After nearly being killed, with my son on my lap, I decided it wasn’t, and I divorced the SOB.

Other than that, there is only one major thing I regret in my life.  Yes, only one.  I don’t live a life that I will regret later.  Since that divorce, I do my best to live a life I choose, the way I choose.  There are many things I’d do differently, but those were things done out of ignorance, nothing more.  Now that I know better, I’d do better – that sort of thing.

When I was young, I was so afraid of being hurt in so many ways.  I has such a horrible upbringing that by the age of 16 I had a hard shell around me.  Boys were for having fun with, not for getting attached to.  Nobody was for getting attached to.  I had “boyfriends”, sounds juvenile now, but I was a juvenile then so, the word stands.  I had boyfriends, but I didn’t care about any of them.  Not a one, until I met Him.

He was the older brother of one of the guys I had class with.  Well, not me, my own brother did, but we had JROTC together so I knew of him.  I’d seen Him around but never actually met Him.  Several of us girls thought He was dreamy – He was out of school already so He was giggle material(I’m not sure if I ever really giggled, but I did look).  I remember it was awards night for the JROTC, the class ahead of us was graduating and all that.  I saw Him and without thinking, I went up behind Him and tapped on Him – I was short and He tall even back then.  When He didn’t appear to notice, I lost my nerve and beat feet out of there.

About a week or so later, school was out, and I was spending the night with a friend at her house.  I got a call, and it was Him!  Apparently, He had seen me walking away at the event, found out who I was and got my friend’s number from one of my nosey sisters when He finally called my house. Color me shocked and very interested, Folks!

Anyway, we dated(if you want to call it that ) for almost a year. We never professed love or devotion, never called each other pet names.  I’d go out with other people and when He called, I’d go right back to Him.  He never got mad either.  If He saw other people, He never said, and I didn’t ask.  Then, IT happened – the moment I will regret for the rest of my life.  I had developed feelings for Him, but I never said anything because I was afraid He’d turn away from me.  It always happened before and I didn’t think it would be any different with Him.  He wasn’t professing undying love to me so I felt justified in keeping my feelings to myself.

He asked me to marry him.  Right out of the blue.  We’d driven out to one of the beaches hardly anyone went to, parked and were cuddling on the hood of his car – height difference remember.  He just popped the question as casually as you please,no ring, no thing, just the question asked against an ear as he held me close.  I thought He was playing a cruel joke on me, and I laughed him off, telling him he didn’t love me.  He didn’t argue, we went on as before.

Later, I got with my eldest son’s dad, and we got married.  I didn’t love the guy, but I wanted a child so…. I learned, later, after He had died the same year my son was born, He had the ring in his pocket when he’d asked me to marry him.  He just hadn’t planned on asking quite the way he had – he’d been afraid too – afraid of pushing me away by admitting his feelings for me.  We had both been so afraid of being hurt, we ended up hurting anyway.

I keep thinking of what might have been.  Even later, I could still have changed things, we were still friends even after I was with my son’s dad, but I didn’t.  I was still too scared, I thought I’d made my choice and had to stick with it.  After His death, his best friend, someone I’d gotten close to as well, told me everything.  He even showed me the ring He had gotten for me.  He had never gotten rid of it or given it to someone else. I have never been so heartbroken as I was then, and I have never let anyone get that close to me since – reason why I’ve been divorced three times and don’t plan to ever marry again.

They say you have one soul mate in life, and I failed to recognize mine.

It’s at times like these when I get out the old memories, and I have a good cry.  The hole in my heart will never be filled, but the blood letting and the tears I shed now will bolster me so I can keep going on this path I had chosen to walk alone.  One day, I will find Him again, it just won’t be on this side of the Veil.

Sorry to be so much of a downer.  I just felt the need to share for some weird reason.  The question now is, do I share or do I delete and not make a post for today?  If this will help someone else decide to forge through the choppy white capped waves of fear to do something they really want to do but are too scared – then so be it.  I will share.

See you guys on the flipside and don’t forget your towels and sonic screwdrivers!  I promise I won’t make you bring tissues too. 🙂

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