my first love
It's been seven years and I can still see the look of horror on his face as he came home from class and saw me in bed with our roommate
It's been seven years and I can still see the look of horror on his face as he came home from class and saw me in bed with our roommate
I never knew you called my mother, begging to talk to me so many times, until a random conversation with her some 20 years later.
Before she kissed me, she told me that regrets are like bad movies in that they make us laugh sometimes when we watch them over but are needed to show us what a good movie is.
I may regret sleeping with him, but I still think that it was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard when he said he was taking Computational Origami.
The night before my dad died, I rolled my eyes and gave an exasperated sigh when he asked me to go to the kitchen and get him a glass of water, but I can't remember if I told him that I loved him.
I can't stop the tears as I shuffle through a box under the our bed and find a tattered letter to Santa, written by my now drug addicted son.
Afterwards, I deeply regretted telling my hairdresser that my mother had had a nose job.
We were only sixteen when he asked me to marry him and now, after two kids, a mortgage, and sixteen more blissful years together, I wish I had said yes because it was the only time he ever asked.
As I listened to my friends joke about bulemia, I wondered what they would say if they knew what I did every night after dinner.
I can't get to the library card in my wallet because your picture is in there too.
If I had only gotten out of bed when my alarm went off, she might still be alive today.
I still wish I had taken the F instead of the A on the online test I hurried to finish while I could hear my dog dying on the kitchen floor.
I hugged your mom and your girlfriend at your funeral, but when your family bashed me in your eulogy I instantly wished I hadn't.
The worst part about the rape is the way it's made the rest of my life about that one night.
I never knew how much he loved me until he showed me the pictures of us he kept in his Army helmet for 4 years.
When the doorbell rang at four o'clock in the morning, I knew the cop had seen my license plate.
It wasn't until I handed the bouncer my ten dollars that I realized how pathetic it was to be at a strip-club on prom night.
If I had known it would've been the last piggyback ride, I would've asked you to carry me much further.
I got scammed out of $70 by two Chinese strangers in a teahouse in Shanghai, but I still had more fun with them than I have with any other members of my American study abroad group.
My best friend hung himself on a Friday afternoon, and when I checked my cell phone the morning of his funeral I realized he had called me that day at 3:24PM.
As we carried the fishing rods to the dock, it never occurred to me that the punch I had landed on the back of his head had started the end of my longest friendship.
Only after being caught having an affair with her husband did I regret betraying my best friend.
I thought she was just joking, but I really should have gone to the prom with her.
Laying in bad with my girlfriend and child as they slept, I felt deep in my gut that my divorce was not because I became a lesbian at all, but because of post-partum depression.
Hearing that she got engaged over the weekend, I decided it was time for me to stop regretting not kissing her that night six years ago and for her to start.
The girl I've had a crush on for six years asked me for advice and I told her to stay with her boyfriend because I knew that would make her happy.
My first kiss happened just months after my mother died.
I'm committed to making lemonade, but I often wish I could pinpoint the moment when I settled for lemons.
I'm convinced that if I had just asked her to prom she wouldn't have moved away and we would be together.
She ruined my haircut within four seconds of making her first snip.
It was only after adopting a cat that I realized I was more of a dog lover at heart.
I looked up at his face, dripping sweat onto mine and suddenly looking so much older, and wondered if I was a better lover than my mother.
I was her babysitter, her superhero, her mentor, her protector, her beloved father-figure all her life up to the day I molested her.
I will always regret not being by the side of my 9 year old brother, my best friend, the day he died of Leukemia.
I wouldn't have been such a bitch if I had known I would never see you again.
I was the smartest person on my floor of my dorm, and probably the richest too, but I was also the only one to flunk out.
My freshmen year of college isn't even over yet and I'm already wishing I could start it over again.
I chose him, but now that I have him I frequently entertain thoughts of doing him bodily harm.
Though I was only 6, I knew how wrong I was to let my grandparents dog rapidly hump my pelvis, behind his dog house that spring.
As I listened to the audience cheer, I realized how much I wish we were speaking so I could tell you how brilliant you are.
The regret came not when I chopped chilli for tea but much later on, when I picked my nose.
At the age of 12, I found a wallet in a department store and lied to the owner when asked if I'd seen it.
The one thing I thought I had enough of turned out to be my addiction.
The scattered ticket stubs and empty bottles still don't hide me from your anger.
Although it took me some time to learn how to properly smoke tweak using the glass pipe, I have spent longer attempting to discover how to reverse the effect that it's had on my life- to no avail.
Reading through last year's journal, I see the words I can't even remember thinking.
I stared at the bucket of stale cheese puffs in disbelief and thought, "I can't believe I paid 9 bucks to eat at this lousy Chinese buffet!"
I spent three years wishing for the one thing I thought I wanted, and have spent all the time since wishing I hadn't wasted so much time in doing so.
She embraced me with the warmth of her skin, the wine on her breath and the smile on her lips and I felt absolutely nothing.
President Bush killed my father, a soldier whose burned remains are now a part of the Iraqi desert landscape, and I, longing to fit in by supporting something I did not understand, was stupid enough to vote for him the previous year.