Conversations with friends often have a way
of bringing up the most interesting topics, be it the sort of innocent
flirtations that only work between two people who are totally comfortable with
each other, to those general discussions about life and all it entails. It was
during one such bout of friendly banter that the subject of lost chances came up
or rather, having been nothing short of obsessed with an unsuited individual for
a long time, whether one can truly avoid looking back and wondering what might
have been had one’s attention not been too focused elsewhere.
I don’t know about anyone else
but when I’m interested in someone, truly interested in them, I develop a sort
of tunnel vision. I’m not talking about some fleeting flight of fancy here (try
saying that five times in quick succession). I’m talking about an honest to
goodness, ‘I can see myself spending the rest of my life with the person’, kind
of deal. That’s some rare stuff, and it really is like being under a spell of
sorts. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about her and what she’s doing. She
consumes everything. Which is all well and good if the other party feels the
same way; it can lead to something very beautiful. But I, like many other
people, have been cursed with the ability to make some not so sensible choices
in that department. So what happens when you start seeing the cracks in what was
otherwise the façade of perfection? What happens when the spell is broken?
It’s only natural to start
thinking about missed chances. About who might have possibly passed through your
life that you’ve blatantly ignored. About who you might have met had you not
made yourself available to her every beck and call. About who you might have
said no to because you were still clinging to the thought that you might have
even the tiniest chance with her. It’s only natural, but if you think too much
about what you might have missed then it’s going to start eating you up inside.
But what else is there to do?
I choose to believe that if the
right person happened to come along at a point when I was blindly following the
allure of another, there’s no reason why she shouldn’t come around again when
I’m receptive to being loved the way that I should be. Or perhaps she’ll wait to
show up when my heart isn’t so raw and bleeding. And then I’m never letting go.
Maybe my way of thinking is nothing more than a defense mechanism. Maybe it’s
the only way that I can find to make sense of a messed up situation, but I have
to believe in second chances. I’m willing to give them, if the situation is
deserving of one, so why shouldn’t God, or the Universe, or whatever else you
put your faith in? Certainly He, She or It is much smarter than I.
So that, my dear friend, is my
philosophy, or at least the one that has earned my trust. I hope it can sow the
seed of inspiration, with a little sprinkling of confidence thrown in.