Reflective Essay About Regret

Regrets There are few moments in my life I truly regret. Few moments where I wish I could turn back the ever-moving hands of time and change the outcome of a series of events. When I was very young, about seven or eight, my parents sat me down and told me how they no longer loved each other, how I should not think of this as any fault of my own, and how they would always love me no matter what happens to them. I knew they were lying though, and it wasn’t until I was ten that anyone could have convinced me that I couldn’t have saved their marriage. This is my first regret, I regret spending two years of my precious childhood hating myself for my parent’s decisions. This now leads me into my second, more peculiar, regret. After my parents split …show more content…
Even though I was hours away from anyone I knew I still managed to make one precious friend, Tommy. He was six years older then I was and was thin as a stick and pale as a ghost. Being as young as I was it didn’t matter to me that Tommy looked rather frightening, because he was years older than I, and in a way it gave me someone to look up to when my father was hours away. When I first met him I was on a hill in the woods behind my house. “Mom, can I please go play on the hill behind our house? I’ve had really good grades this semester!” I would beg and plead with my mother to let me go, as the hill in the woods seemed to be the only thing to do way out here. She would almost always tell me no, that I could fall and get hurt and that it was to far away. Eventually I did wear her down, and she let me go for one hour to the hill to play on. And on this hill …show more content…
We played together; we played tag, hide and seek, and even threw around a large pinecone I found. When my mother called for me telling me my hour was up, I was sad to leave my new friend, but for some reason Tommy looked scared when my mother called. “What’s wrong?” I asked
“Oh, nothing. Just that I better get going home now and I don’t quite know the way back.” He said, but I could tell he was lying. I didn’t think much of it because I had to get home. We said our goodbyes and that we would meet again soon and then parted ways. Over the next few months I would struggle with making friends at school, no one wanted to be friends with the new kid. Sometimes I would see Tommy in the high school wing, always alone, always walking as if trying to hide his face bruised with marks from falling down the hill. He would always stop to talk with me and arrange to play the next day. As we grew closer as friends I realized we had a lot in common. Both our parents were