You showed up late.
But Regret was already waiting.

Regret doesn’t shout.
It lingers.
It replays.
It rewinds the film, again and again.

It is the heavy breath just after the moment passed.
The weight behind the words you didn’t say.
The ache that knows it can’t undo, only feel through.

Regret says:
“This mattered.”
“You care.”
“What you do, and don’t do, echoes.”

What Is Regret Trying to Tell You?

• Something meaningful slipped past, unspoken, undone, unfelt.
• You are aware of your impact, and your longing to have chosen differently.
• There is still time to learn from this weight, and grow from it.
• You are not bad, you are becoming.

Invite Regret in for Tea

It may not sit easily, it shifts in the chair, avoids your eyes.
But it showed up because something in you *matters*.
And it wants to make meaning from what hurt.

Ask it:
“What truth are you protecting me from?”
“What am I ready to forgive, even if I can't forget?”
“Can I make this into something sacred?”

Regret can be a turning point. Or a tether.
You get to choose what it becomes.

“When you realize nothing is lacking,
the whole world belongs to you.”
— Lao Tzu