I rarely regret my actions of the past. I accept the notion that what was supposed to happen happened, and think about what I can learn from my mistakes.
Lately, though, I am wondering why I did not do this, writing and learning to express, while you were around.
I was focused on taking care of us so much that I stopped enjoying life, resenting the fact that you did what you wanted to do, and I did what needed to be done.
Only after you left me, I started to see myself. And, I think about what would have been like if I had started earlier. Would we have enjoyed being alive more? Appreciated each other gracefully? Would you have been proud of me?
No sense in trying to figure that out.
“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”
— George Bernard Shaw