There’s no room for regrets, they say. You can’t go back and change yesterday.
If only their words were true. They’re not. There is such a room, a room that I stumble upon when I wander down those dark and lonely hallways in my head. If I find myself standing in front of the door to that room, I’ll pause and slowly open it just a bit and then slam it shut. I know the demons that live in that room. Those damn demons…they will torture and torment me and all I will be able to do is scream, “I didn’t know my son would die!” I slam that door shut with a vengeance every time.
Who says there’s no room for regrets?