Dear:

I remember the feather-light touch of your fingers along my skin, the words you spoke as I closed my eyes. I remember the battle within me between what I feared feeling and the undeniable reality of what I was feeling. I let fear win and was wanton in my acceptance of that cowardice. As many times as I talk myself into believing it was right for the time, the threads of what could have been pull at me.

We will never be without our what-ifs, our what-could-have-beens, our wonderings. We hear often that we should try to live a life without regrets, but I’m coming to think that it is simply not possible. It is not so much about not regretting what was or wasn’t, it is about being thankful for what is. And I am.

N

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