#unfulfilled

Hi. 

Do you remember when, as we sat in the park eating our ice cream, some dancing personality approached us wanting to perform, and I said, no thank you & you were impressed that I offered such a kind dismissal? I scoffed then thinking you barely knew me. And do you remember that you told me you were *slightly* lactose intolerant when I asked why you got mint chip vegan? It seemed like such a personal detail to share to a stranger. What about when I started talking about how my father came the US and you gave me a look that said wait, mine too? And that story you told me about the last man on earth who received a knock on his door? Did you make that up on the spot? I was impressed and then quickly embarrassed because I couldn’t come up with a short story spontaneously even though I was supposed to be the aspiring writer. 

I’m jogging my memory and these are the little details that fill in around the one single thing I remember best: when you spoke your native language. Ironically, I can’t quite remember what it was that you even said, but I do remember its effect on me. I still think about the lulling sound of it sometimes.

I’m jogging my memory because I’ve been hearing a lot about regret lately. Actually there’s this book I learned of called The Power of Regret, about how thinking about the past and what we fail to do can inform us about what we value in life and how we can do better in the future. That’s not to say I regretour serendipitous encounter, or even its finitude – the short-lived conversations, the dinner that we never had, etc. But it made me dwell a little longer on the moment. Sometimes I am grateful for strangership and sometimes I am curious and wish there was more to it. 

I think about that evening like I’m watching a movie, except I know there was no script, it was all improvisation and some things played out well and some things less so. A lot of information was left out, both the kind you want to hear and the kind you don’t. And so without a script, it’s not fair to regret something you had little control over. But still, I wanted to create an opportunity to fill in some of those gaps, provide you with more information and also, selfishly and curiously, see what effect I had on you. And maybe that is the regret, not pushing further for an opportunity that would be more controlled, more scripted, so we could feel more satisfied about our performances and effects on other people. 

I like closure, I like clarity, and I like to communicate clearly. Just– I don’t know if it’s appropriate for me to do so right now. In the past, it would seem I’ve always appeared uninvited, and I’d prefer to respect the space that you’ve created, if that was intentional.

Anyway, if you get this, I hope you call. But if you don’t, that’s okay too. Sometimes there’s beauty in something unfulfilled.