Let it go

I've been thinking a lot lately about regret. Actually not thinking because thinking would mean some sort of action took place, a decision made. I think, ah I mean I know that I've been talking inside of my head a lot lately about regret. The idea of it and what it is; attempting to define it. Discussing out loud in the shower to myself specific regrets I believe I have. As well as speaking, asking to myself in the mirror...how does one, me specifically, let it go? Release that feeling of regret for a turn made long ago that as I reflect on it now seems so obviously clearly stupid or how do I spit out the pit resting in my stomach that is the past relationship gone bad, career move not taken or pursued? I again say talking, speaking, asking to myself and not thinking because I don't have any answers. I just have the feeling running through my blood, of regret not being filtered out. When I close my eyes and reflect on this feeling of regret a concise and clear image comes into my head and rests. At first it is a picture of me standing alone in a large livingroom void of furniture, art work, curtians, anything at all signifying occupancy. All the windows are open and there are a lot of windows. It is day time. Sun shinning into all of the windows. I can see my breath in a white crisp cloud in front of my face as I inhale, exhale. I am chilled slightly but not actually cold - more alive and tingly than anything else. Each window is open the same amount - wide open to the top of the window. Then the image changes and movement starts. The windows are now starting to close, moving very slowly and they are all moving downward. As the windows lower the sun light starts to fade. I then see myself running around the room quickly pushing up each window. Each time I do so each window goes up a little bit and then begins it descent again as I leave it, move on to attend to the next closing window. A feeling of control with a tinge of slidding down a mountain with no rope to grab overwhelms me, washes over my entire body as this scene plays out over and over in my mind. I'm alone here in this room. No people, no animals only me, and the windows. Over and over I run around the room pushing up the windows, sensing them start their drop down as I move to the next one. The window's openings appear to stay the same, stable you could say. I push up, they start to close and as they reach that one spot I am back, there pushing back up and so on. I know in my bones in this scene that I will keep pushing up those windows until they stop coming back down or until I can no longer push. Remember, as I stated at the begining; I am talking out loud and inside of my head, not so much thinking...yet.