Daily Prompt – Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
Yeah, I self-host this site, so I don’t get the prompts in my dashboard. But we’ll write anyways. I do, however, post on my WordPress site. It’s just under a different URL. This is probably the first time I’ve ever posted one of these publicly too. I’ve been doing that a lot more lately.
Throughout my life I’ve gone back and forth between taking action and being passive. When it’s about other people and protecting them, I tend to act immediately. I don’t really let things slide. But when it’s regarding myself, I tend to stay kind of passive. I’ve always been scared of change in that regard; making decisions that will drastically alter my current living situation. I’ve always put my wants and needs second to others such that I don’t offend anyone or they’re more comfortable, etc. I’ve gotten a lot better at these things though. I guess experience really does help sometimes.
The one time I wish I would’ve acted was when my ex broke up with me. I wish I fought harder, but instead I was stunned and shocked. I got really depressed to the point of doing anything felt like moving the heavens. Later she would ask me “what are we?”. My dumb self thought she didn’t want to be with me, but I wanted to express so much to her. I held back. I held back for a lot of reasons, but the main one was that I didn’t think she wanted me. Part of it was fear of losing her again as well. Looking back, they are incredibly silly reasons. Getting in my own way. That’s probably the most regretful I’ve been in my life. And now here I wonder since another time popped in my head, but we’ll get to that. A two-for-one special some might say. I expressed some things to her.. how much I missed her, how I wish things were different between us, etc. If I could do something different I would definitely express everything I wanted to her. Bare my soul to her. Tell her I want to fight for her. I think that’s all it would’ve really took to keep her in my life. But at that time my mind was so clouded. Clouded in ways I never really thought possible. Distrust and fear being the most prominent clouds. I’m not really sure I could’ve arrived at the resolve that I have now back then. I know I wanted to, but I’m not entirely sure. It’s a weird feeling. One I’ve never experienced before.
The other time I thought of is a lot more grim. Back in January 2019 on Saturday the sixth, I found my dad. I presume he had passed at least 24 hours prior to finding him. I remember the night prior extremely well. I had been hanging out with a childhood friend and got home in the evening. Maybe eight or nine pm. My dad’s bedroom light was still on which was kind of weird. Usually he doesn’t hangout in his room and if he does his light is never on. If it was on it’d be during the day. It was just eerie. I had parked and the thought that he passed swept my mind. I thought I should go check on him. I didn’t. I convinced myself nothing bad had happened. So, I went inside, went to his door, then went to the living room to sleep. I was sleeping on an air mattress at the time. The next morning at 6:30am I rushed to my dad’s door, dropped to my hands and knees, and checked to see if his bedroom light was still on. It was. I knock and call out to him. Nothing. I then burst in to see what was going on. He was laying there stiff.. lifeless. He had been laying halfway on the side of the bed almost like he was sitting down beforehand. I call 911, check his pulse, and bring him to the floor all while looking at his face. Eyes open. Same face I’d seen for years prior. I start doing cpr on him. Luckily enough I was trained in this regard. Unluckily enough it didn’t matter at the time. With the first pump I crack his ribs. I feel them almost shatter beneath my hands. I keep going while looking at his face and sobbing. The paramedics arrive. I don’t even know how they entered to be honest. I don’t think I unlocked the door or anything. They enter the room, start setting up, then the one positioned at his head stops, looks at me, and starts to tell me he’s already gone. Before he even starts speaking I repeat “I know. I know. I know. I know” as I continue sobbing. During all of this my brother was still sleeping in his room. The sheriff talks to me and asks me if anyone else knows. I tell him no. He proceeds to tell me that I should probably, at least, let my brother know. I wake my brother up and tell him “dad’s dead”. He’s shocked. His drowsy self must’ve not comprehended anything. How could he in that state. “Dad’s dead”, I repeat. He hurries up and comes out of his room to a house full of paramedics and police officers. A scene I could only imagine waking up to. I don’t think it hit him immediately though. He hadn’t seen the body or anything, just the officers and paramedics. I think he’s lucky in that regard. Having the sight of a loved one burned into your memory like that is.. tough.
Maybe you can guess. The action I wish I took was checking on my dad the day prior. In my mind, the earlier I could’ve gotten to him the more likely I would’ve been able to save him. Talking myself out of checking on him is one of my biggest regrets.. one of my few major regrets. That feeling has haunted me since.