I was thinking about regrets the other day—not that I have very many—and I started thinking about things I’d do-over if I could. You know the kind of thing I’m talking about: That “What if” question that determines the shape of your life. Granted, these all don’t have to be life-changing things, but they’re generally more interesting if they are, I find.

I’ve often wondered what would have happened to me if I’d stuck to my original plan when I was 16. I’d just gotten back from a humanitarian convoy setting up a non-profit group in the outskirts of Nicaragua, a journey that also took me through Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador. I was desperate to get back—specifically to Guatemala—and had planned on working for most of the next year to fund the trip. Instead, I ended up meeting a girl and ... well ... you get the picture.

I wasn’t able to make it back to Guatemala until roughly a decade later.

But, “What if?” I’m sure my life would have been drastically different had I actually gone back at 17. Maybe not in a good way, but still, it’s hard not to wonder about it.

What about you? Surely, you’ve had the same kind of thoughts.

We tend to think of “what ifs” when it comes to regrets more than other, less meaningful events. However, you have no way of knowing what would ever have happend had you chosen to do something else, so why put much thought into it?

For example, if I had walked up the stairs instead of taken the elevator today, my life could be going in a completely different direction. There is no way I would ever know, though, so I don’t consider it.

Now if you want to get Trekkie with me, we could discuss the fact that Steve considered going back to Guatemala when he was 17. In thinking this, that reality was created, and it is possible that it exists. It’s just that the Steve in that reality is completely unaware of the Steve in this reality, and might be sitting on the shores of Lake Atitlan wondering what would have happened if he’d stayed with that girl.

Well, sure. If I hadn’t eaten that bagel this morning, my life ten years from now would be totally different, as dictated by Chaos Theory. But the decision to eat the bagel wasn’t one where the outcome set clearly outlined events in motion, and I can’t look back at my life at that point and say “Oh, if only I hadn’t eaten that bagel!”

Again, I’m not complaining about my life. It’s been basically a good one in most ways. But I’m always curious about the “What ifs,” possibly because I’m a big ol’ sci-fi nerd, and read far too many Marvel comics in the era of alternate universes.

Wow.

What a way to start a day that’s finally free of rain.

I wish I could be all cavalier and say I ain’t got any, but anybody who says that is either 18 or a liar.

1995.

She went to Paris to study abroad.

I would get phone calls, really expensive phone calls, professing her love and begging me to join her in her flat in the 15th arrondissement.

“I can’t afford it.”

I would get letters with exotic stamps detailing the bars my favorite authors used to haunt, describing the lurid details of the Latin Quarter and hinting at the rollicking depravity that went on in the basement tavern of Madame Twi’s most nights.

“I can’t afford it.”

This went on for about 8 months until I finally said ‘WTF’ (what can I say, I was ahead of the times). I got a credit card and charged a one-way ticket to Orly airport and went to spend the spring in Paris with the woman I loved.

My first night in Paris I met her French lover, J_____.

Long story short….

I don’t regret going to Paris. Living on the streets and dumpster diving there for almost a year was a defining time of my life.

But I do regret putting trivial monetary concerns above love.

Every time I see her children I think about the ‘what-ifs’.

I still see her. She lives in Asheville now after all these years, believe it or not.

Thanks ‘Felt, you ol’ ray of sunshine, you.

Quel dommage, but if her love for you had only an eight month expiration date, it may not have been amour vrai.

It didn’t, but that’s part of the ‘long story short’ thing.

Even if you had made it there 8 months earlier and married her, she’d still have the lover J____.  That’s the way they do things in France.

That’s why there is no English phrase for ménage à trois.

I have no regrets.

Although I wish I have had my bank card on me when I went to the White Stripes show at Vincent’s Ear.  I just went home.