Regrets? Ya, I have a lot of regrets. I regret that we invested in a friendship that didn’t last. I regret not being able to read your mind and for getting mad at you. I regret choosing myself when life has commanded me to love. I regret the very real hardness in me towards people like you. The hardness in me in general. I regret that this is who. I. am. Who I will always be. And I regret that it took hurting you, and in converse you hurting me, to learn that. These immutable facts of the space of the earth we occupy. Oh, there is more than enough space for us both, just none where our ven diagrams overlap. No commonalities to tie us together while our differences teach what the other lacks. I actually think it’s our commonalities that tore us apart, no one to pick up where the other left off, while our differences only widened the chasm between the way “you do things” and the way “I do things.” My heart is sad it lost you because you ARE SUCH a beautiful person. And I am afraid you think I don’t think that. When all I really think is that the two of us together are bad news bears.
It has to be accepted as Casualties in the War of Discovering Who We Are.
Because if I had known who I was, I would have been confident in not becoming your friend in the first place, and none of this would have happened. But I had to try you on for size, to see if I was the type of person to be friends with someone like you. And it didn’t fit. A nice shirt. But looks terrible on. So, discarded on the floor, of course I am jealous of the girl wearing the shirt who it looks good on. Even though I know it wasn’t right for me. I can still appreciate it. I can still miss the idea of it. Even if I hated the way in made me feel when I had it on.