Regrets.

Thirteen years ago, I had fluffy hair left over from the 80's, was finishing up my first year of law school and smiled nearly all the time. I was head over heels in love with the guy who had become my best friend earlier that year. Our relationship was at once intense and light-hearted; we spent every spare moment together. I knew that, with him, I was totally and utterly loved for who I really am. Likewise, I knew and loved him with an utter lack of boundary that is impossible to describe with words. When he asked me to marry him a year later, I said no.

There were complex reasons for why I turned away. Simply put, I felt it was the noble thing to do under the circumstances. This did not make it easy; seeing him daily in all of the classes we had arranged to take together would have caused me to drop out of school, had my father not threatened to beat the crap out of him if that's what it took to prevent me from throwing away what I had accomplished thus far.

I'm not sure why I am writing about this tonight. I have never in the last 13 years regretted the decision that I made. But tonight I found myself remembering what we had with some tears of sadness instead of the warmth and pleasure that typically accompany my sporadic thoughts of him. There is really no point to this story, but I wanted to write it because whether sad or happy, it is one of the most beautiful facets in the prism that is my life.