Why do I fear regret?
My life has been blessed and full of good things. I had a happy childhood. My family loves me. I was allowed to pursue my own interests instead of conforming to those around me. And now I have a wonderful job that I adore, the opportunity to pretend I'm a triple threat, and a special little middle-grade novel simmering on the back stove, waiting for its time to shine. Thus far, I have no real regrets.
And yet I fear them.
I fear that one day I will wake up and regret that I did not chase the biggest dreams, the ones that called from far away, bright yet elusive. And that I will regret having lost the time for chasing them, and having settled for a normal life.
I fear that I might regret that I did chase those dreams; that they were so big and bright that they consumed me. And that I will regret the years I lost in chasing them, in trying too hard to grasp at something I could never reach.
I fear that I will have the opportunity to love, and that I will pass it by. And that one day I will regret it, and wish I had taken the chance when it stood before me.
I fear that I might take that chance at love, and jump too soon, and then realize with a shock that I have settled. And I will regret not waiting, not moving on, not holding out for the one that is my own.
I fear regret.
And one day I will probably awaken and regret the years I spent fearing it.
There is too much joy, excitement and adventure ahead of me to waste my time with this burden.
I must be free of it. I must not fear. I must not regret.