Prompt: Interplay between satisfaction and regret in an individual’s life.

Text: “Poem of Regret for an Old Friend” – Meghan O’Rourke

Theme Statement: When an individual reflects on their desire to achieve satisfaction, they may become lost in their regrets as they are engulfed in their misery of not having the satisfaction they long for. As such, they live in their past rather than act for their future; however, some can accept their past and work to move forwards for a greater future that encompasses a means of redemption for themselves.

Life could’ve been different, far different, if only I had tried.

We stood on the dock, the wind blowing in our faces, the smell of the ocean lingered on our skin. The sun began to sink below the clouds, further, into the depths of the water, like a “pulped lemon, at the low edge of the sky”. We stared into the rippling reflections of ourselves, hoping there laid some certainty for us to take. There wasn’t.

Our house wasn’t that grand; frankly, it held nothing more than some “vinyl blinds” and a small ball of my aspirations in the laundry hamper. Maybe a wash or two could revive some of the colour back. 

I had far greater plans than what lay before me, had I only pursued them earlier. 

I thought I could ignore the realities of the situation I was put in, find a silver lining, grasp onto some satisfaction with the stability I had traded my life for, attain some contentment. Had I only seen the despair sooner.

I thought I could push past the history I created for myself; my dreams and livelihood could be packed in a small box, wrapped with a satin ribbon and given as a gift to someone else. Had I only known the truth prior. 

I thought my dreams were calling for me and bring them back into the light I had pushed them away from. Had I only listened.

I “[stood] so still”, the regrets I created swirled in the wind, entangling themselves in my hair, pulling me closer to the ocean. The edge of the dock called for me, enchanting me, calling me closer to take that leap, to lay still with the sinking sun. I looked over to the man on my right, looking over the ripples of the water, probably admiring the contentment he possessed that I longed for.

The wrinkles on his face betrayed no false sentiments, no illusive thoughts. In fact, he seemed at peace with the idea of me standing so close to the end. Did he not have any remorse for all the misfortune bestowed upon me? I couldn’t comprehend the idea that this man could have achieved tranquility in his life, whereas I, despite all the sacrifices I took to uncover just a small pinch of satisfaction, was enveloped in my regrets, the whispering soft voices of the wind, voices of angles, called for a sense of serenity. All I had to do was jump.

I wanted to ask the man, my father, why he wasn’t at the edge either. I wanted to scream towards the sky, hoping my frustrations would condense into the clouds and float away. I wanted to stop resisting the need to hold myself back from the waters. 

I glanced back at my father- who was momentarily staring into the darkening sky- was now staring me in the eyes. I saw flames of destruction behind the whites of his eyes, flames that seemed to burn my entire being despite the distance between us. I heard the screams and cries of his past, noticed the faded tear-stains on his cheeks. I had never looked at my father this intently before, maybe because his calm demeanour felt unattainable to me, engulfing me in jealousy and furthering the animosity of my regrets. The satisfaction he seemed to have obtained was his means of pushing the truth into a small corner of his being, to so desperately cover his own regrets. 

Contentment builds an illusive barrier between our heart and mind. I had believed that peace could be found in the chaos of our lives only at the price of our dreams and aspirations, that we can separate ourselves from our guilt, entrap it in a small bundle inside ourselves. In reality, we are always standing at the edge of the dock, wishing we could let ourselves fall into the ocean under the “darkness that settles over one’s face”. 

I moved myself away from the edge; my father continued to stare, slightly shaking his head. I glanced at the water, but the sinking sun was gone. I turned my head to the horizon, the light illuminating the clarity of the water, shining down on the dark souls floating at the bottom of the ocean. I knew I would come back to the dock in near time, but I walked away with a different feeling pulsing through my blood. A smile had formed on my lips, something I haven’t been able to do since coming to the dock.

The sun had begun to rise.