Regret

She welcomed the day ahead with a smile, a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, eyes that often see beyond the present and the far distance of “what could be”.  Out of the window, into the pale pink horizon, her gaze drifted, never missing the last twinkle of the morning star. As dewdrops drenched the world with soft, dreamlike mist, spreading its essence into the emerald, rolling hills and the blanket of grassland that spread into forever, she breathed in the pleasant scent of the damp earth and the summer roses wafting into the breezy air. And she uttered a brief wish..that today would be the day she has always been waiting for.

Before the thought was completed in her sleep-fuddled brain, a tiny vicious voice whispered in her ear, “Wishful thinking, darling. But you’re certainly welcome to keep on wishing.”

It only took those words to get her out of the oblivion she had fallen into. She has no right to dream, she has no right to wish. She doesn’t even have the right to let such thoughts cross her mind. For if she let it wash over her, the flutter of hope, the glimmer of a promise, she knew for sure she’d be lost and swallowed by the dark world she has been trying so desperately to escape. It confined her into a prison of her own doing. A prison with no walls, nor a door. A prison which is cocooned by the dark and the chill that threatened to seep into her bones and leave her worse than dead.

She is worse than dead. And it was nobody’s crime but her own. She let a moment of madness doom the rest of her lifetime. She should be flagged. She should be damned to the agonies of hell, and should never be given an escape route, not even a speck of mercy.

She doesn’t deserve it.

Oh, how she hated herself. She doesn’t think she’d ever feel that much hatred than what she’s feeling right now. Had it been possible, she would tear out the barriers and get out of her own filthy skin. She can’t take another breath without the revulsion that tore at her heart. Revulsion and disgust solely directed to her self.

She doesn’t deserve to live, when she had ruined the life of another. And it would be a nightmare she had to carry on her shoulders for the rest of her sorry life.

How can she be so wrong? How can she doubt something that stares at her in the eyes? How can she waste the chance of a lifetime and forsake the most precious gift of all?

Trust. It all boils down to trust. Or for the lack of it.

She should have believed him when he told her he loved her. She should have believed him when he went down on both knees and offered      the whole world at her feet. She should have looked into his eyes and see the depths of his feelings.

But she was so wrong. She was so wrong to turn away from the one thing that held her everything. She was so wrong to let her pride rule over her heart.

And now, she was left alone. Bleeding and beyond salvation, filled with scars that can never be healed. And as she looked down at the crimson part of her heart, where regret and pain spread out like poison, slithering into her veins and squeezing the essence of life out of her system, she saw his face. His beautiful, handsome face bearing the mark of her rejection, twisted  into a thousand unspeakable pain and drowned out by the vicious blow of bitterness and hopelessness. And even as he turned away, the pieces of his heart falling one by one into the ground, she never suspected for a moment that it would be the last time she’d ever see him. That he would choose to end his suffering and freely embrace the promise of death. No more pain, no more torment. Only blessed peace.

And only then, when he was well and truly gone, when he was way beyond her reach, did she realize that he meant the whole word to her. She could give everything, just to turn back time, back at the moment when he was more than alive, and she could undo what she had done, when she can take back the words she had said and believe in him a whole lot more.

But she was too busy celebrating life, basking in the glory of having the world at her disposal, failing to see, even for just a second that his world is spinning around her. And now it’s too late, and all she could do is regret. Regret the lost times, regret the chance of happiness. And punishing herself  by wallowing in “if onlys” and “what ifs”. 

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