Thursday, January 12, 2012

24 Regrets


Some folks regret that they lived the lives that others expected of them, rather than living true to them selves. They regret that they worked as much as they did. They regret that they lacked courage to express their feelings. They regret that they were not close to their familial friends. They regret that they had not permitted themselves to be happier than they allowed themselves to feel.

I live my life without regard for other folks expectations. No regret there.
I love working. I have fun by working. No regret there.
I express feelings frequently. No regret there.
I have no real friends, just folks who self-identify as my friends. Being that I am a benign sociopath, I am not close to most. No regret there.
I am a happy camper being me. No regret there.

I regret that I looked at Cynthia Macklin in 1971, didn't start to see her until 1986, and didn't see her clearly until 2004. Cynthia treated me as though she respected and liked me. When I talked to her, she looked at me until we were done talking. Most girls looked away from me when I was around. I asked for her help in a project; Cynthia assented and collaborated with me. But I was so blind that I forgot her for fifteen years. I took another eighteen years to remember her name. I wish I'd seen Cynthia when I looked at her.

I regret that I allowed bullies to knock me around when I was younger. I bought into the non-violence meme, that real men are strong enough to refrain from violent actions against folks who assault them. I wish that I had beaten the bejesus out of a couple of bullies when I was in high school and hammered Norbert the prankster who wasted my time. I wish that I had painted the walkway in Manhattan Beach with the blood of the four guys who shoved me around one evening in 1973. I wish that I had crippled the two 'bros' -Jose Mata and Rich Gammel- who held me down -in the upstairs bathroom of the house in which I was rooming- to shave half of my face that year. I wish that I had violently responded to bullies' assaults against me.

I regret that I allowed Pete Miranda to search and arrest me. I wish I had shot him dead when I had the chance.

I regret that I failed to break Trinidad Octavio's neck when he smashed head-on into my pick-up truck early one August morning in 1987. I lost a truck because of his poor driving skills and my license because I didn't have auto insurance then. I wish that I had reached into the car that he crashed and snapped his neck there.

I regret that I am a fool. I stay on the side, watching the world pass me by. I wish I were wise.

h/t   'Nurse reveals the top 5 regrets people make on their deathbed'