Poetry On Regret Novels & Stories

This is not an update. I want to use this opportunity to thank every one of you, my dearest and sweetest readers who took the time to read, comment, and gift my book. Thank you all so much, I appreciate you guys. As you all know, we have come to the end of My Ex-Husband’s Regret. Yippee!!!! (I hope you enjoyed the journey of the story) Yeah, this is the end guys but does that mean the end for you and me? No, I will be writing another book soon and I would love to have you guys as my readers again.

The world around him blurred, the edges of his vision darkening as the floodgates of his emotions burst open. REGRET a feeling he had always feared, a feeling he had tried to avoid at all costs now engulfed him completely. It was a relentless tide, washing over him with such force that he could no longer hold back the sobs that racked his body. He wept openly, the sounds of his anguish echoing in the quiet street.

I cried out my grievances and disappointments all these years. From now on, Jules could never make me emotional again.

“Jensen… sorry…” Her eyes were red as she raised her hand and slapped herself. “I am sorry… I regretted it for the past three years… please forgive me. Please look at me one more time…” I rolled down the window halfway and looked at her with a cold expression. “Chelsea, do you think it is appropriate to say this in front of my wife? Do not come near me and disgust me again. I do not want to see you. Do not insult the word regret. You do not deserve it.”

"Mom, you and Dad failed as parents. I'm just glad I wasn't raised by you and that I didn't end up like William. And forgiveness? That's not happening. "What really killed me was your indifference. If I had the choice, I'd wish I'd never been your child. But I won't let you die." I pressed my hand to her forehead and pulled away. "You'll live and spend the rest of your life drowning in guilt and regret." … I was sitting by the hospital window when Mom suddenly jolted awake. She ripped out her IV line and lurched off the bed, her face streaked with tears as she cried my name.

The grandeur of my achievements felt inconsequential in the wake of the profound loss that engulfed me. Sleep eluded me, and when the night descended, I found myself grappling with the shadows of regret that haunted my thoughts. The love letters from Isabella, concealed artifacts of a past I had failed to confront, now lay bare the complexities of my heart. The symphony of regret played relentlessly in the recesses of my mind, each note a reminder of the choices that had led to this desolate chapter of my life.

I lost her through a thousand small betrayals across the eighteen years we’ve known each other. A waiter carrying dozens of trays nearly crashes into me, but I barely notice because I’ve been moving through life in a haze, barely registering anything around me. Even with the twins, I had to leave them with Mom because I couldn’t be present. I’m too lost in the storm I created to be the father they need. That’s the thing about regret. It’s not just an emotion; it’s a beast with teeth and claws and it feeds on you from the inside, leaving nothing behind.

'Dear Ace, I went through an old picture album recently and found myself reminiscing about the past, which isn’t like me. I've always believed there was no point in looking back to regret or to ponder on what could have been. Yet, I have so much regret, so much I wish I had taken the time to reflect on. I realize now that none of the things I’ve accomplished were truly my dreams, but rather, they were things I thought would earn me the love and acceptance from my father. I thought I could live with myself even after I hurt so many people, even when I hurt you and broke your heart…' A single tear falls from my eyes, making me aware of the wetness in my eyes and the heaviness in my chest. I do

Sadness seeped into my bones, like a winter chill that hesitated to leave even in the warm weather of spring. My heart was heavy with regret as memories came crashing through. The memory of her begging me to reconsider and just postpone the party but I had stubbornly refused, disregarding her begs as flimsy complaints. That was how I killed that beautiful soul and miraculously turned out alive. I shut my eyes painfully to cloud the regret in my mind. "Look at me," I lamented aloud "My life isn't even the least bit perfect. Why did I have to survive?" an ache of regret tightened around my neck making me wish I could alter the course of my life.

In those fleeting moments of stillness, I would find solace, a brief respite from the relentless march of time. But even as I toiled away, my thoughts would invariably drift back to her, to the woman I had loved and lost, to the son I had never had the chance to truly know. With each passing day, the weight of my regret grew heavier, a burden too heavy to bear, threatening to crush me beneath its crushing weight.