iRegret.net

I am healthy. Or mostly. I am loved, have even had great love, the kind that makes everything seem just a backdrop to it.  I have all my basic needs taken care of — regular meals, a roof over my head, and more.  A pretty good job thing — I’m paid well for hard work.  I have fine clothes and shoes, too many fine clothes and shoes in fact.  And yet, most of the time, all I see is deficit. The clutter of my apartment, the inadequacy of my closets. That my friends are not more attentive; my lover not more romantic.  Or that I am not more perfectly made, more effortlessly attractive. That I am not younger.  I see what’s missing to such an extent that I cannot see what’s here, all this bounty, within reach, mine to love, to claim, to feel the texture of, to improve on, should that be necessary, with care, with family feeling, or in the way of long-term relationships.  Most of the time, I just cannot see all these gifts, take them in, cannot say my thanks. I regret that so.

Submitted by: Ivy