Regrets -

I never liked the smell of lilacs although they were always your favorite flower. When did you stop bringing them home? I never noticed, Wish I had. I always thought walking through pine-scented woods was such a bore, kicking leaves, how foolish I thought, and didn't hesitate to tell you so...collect them for a fall bouquet, hell no! Wish I had. How my memories haunt me now; I rejected your every whim, such little things. You wanting to build a snowman, I complained, 'It's too cold for that', and how hurt you were when I wouldn't wear that silly hat you bought for my birthday, from my favorite store, Wish I had. I found an old letter today, stuffed deep in the pocket of your old coat, the one I never liked, both smelling of lilacs. The letter was penned in an unfamiliar hand. Bits of crumbled leaves fell as I unfolded the pages of this, your private world. Some words were faded by time and splotches of tears. Yours? Hers? No matter! Such gentle words, flowing sweet with love like the music of a string quartet. If only I had written those words that must have made you smile, mellowed your mood, touched your heart, but it's been so long since I spoke to you of love. Wish I had. Sitting alone, lost in a turmoil of cluttered 'might have beens', the ring of the phone startles me; it's you, expressing your regret, you are going to be late again. I wanted to ask you to bring lilacs home for the table I'd just set, but I didn't! But oh God! I wish I had! I was always too proud to cry until now! I wish I had! I wish I had! Cynthia