these things they go away, replaced by every day...
i heard a song this weekend that reminded me of one of my few (okay, many) regrets. not a regret for doing something bad (like the rest of them), but a regret for not doing something. a sweetest decline, to quote the fabulous beth orton. a "thing i had left undone," to paraphrase the prayer of confession.

we can call the thing a "he." and we can call the "he" the "one that got away." the not-all-that-great-early-90s-song reminded me of long drives with good music and him telling me to "dump that bastard!" it reminded me of the kind of friendship i'd totally pay to have with my girlfriends nowadays - tenderness, laughter, understanding, low-maintenance... it reminded me of quiet evenings spent working on papers and making fun of people. it reminded me of sitting outside after midnight in the middle of the california desert with a guitar and some shooting stars.

i just wish i had let him know how i really felt back in our hey-day. now is not the time. he will be a very happy father soon and i am a very happy newlywed - at this point, that'd just be selfishly spreading the burden around. it's mine to shoulder.

that said, it's not really a burden. and given my track record, it's nice to know that there's someone out there that i once loved but haven't totally screwed over, broken his heart, or maybe even turned him gay.