We plaster them on our hearts—those words that were left unsaid, those glances that we dared not steal, those kisses that were drowned in anguish, those many little things we wished we had said or done—we label them away as regrets or simply put them behind signboards that read “No trespassing”. We often drag them with us to our graves and into the many lives we are destined to live. We are given our chances, yet we do not take them out of fear. We write them off as our ‘what ifs’. We content ourselves in the thought that it was perhaps for the good of the universe that we never chased those wretched dreams. We never think about the possibilities that might spring forth if only we had a little faith in ourselves, in this universe.
We write about them, we scribble them in our journals, we make beautiful colorful art of them, we string them in musical notes, we make mammoth efforts to give them shapes and forms to keep them alive even after we are long gone. We live in a state of perfect chaos constantly battling between our choices and our feelings of remorse where neither wins. Amidst all this, much of life and love are lost.
I do not want us to be that word left unsaid, that glance I didn’t steal, or that kiss I didn’t place on your lips.