Regrets, oh, I have them. I don't care about other people's, though. Each of us have enough demons to fend off without having to throw blame and meddling at each other. I know the feeling too well of wishing against hopeless past, if only tears can undo what has already been done. But have we ever dared wonder what life would be like without regrets? What would we be like without remorse? I know they're not exactly the same thing but they can be, too, sometimes.
And what good is pride, really? More often than we'd like to accept, it has cost us dear and precious relations, wounding loves too deep beyond mending. We always let it get the best of us. It makes us gamble what we cannot afford to lose. But despite the very poisonous nature of it, sometimes, on some very rare times, it can be our only saving grace. Saving us from our supposed better judgements. Saving us from ourselves.
If we allow ourselves to grow up, to grow out from beyond the selfish and shallow confines we have caged ourselves into, we realize that leaving is also a two way street. That despite abandon, unless we decide to turn our backs and leave, too, we haven't really been left behind. We haven't really been forgotten. Unless we leave, too. Unless we also forget.
I think that we are constantly being given the life that is much better than we deserve. But we complicate things anyway. We love to throw away our gifts and strain our necks into craning over to see what the other has gotten and we think we've been cheated of a jockpot. Never mind that we also see them craning their necks envying what we've got in ours. Stop thinking that the grass is greener on the other side. Your grass would be green too, if you spend as much time watering it as you do covetting what's not yours.