Some people die in bed, with so much progeny surrounding 'em they don't know half the names. I know, I've seen it happen. That card never made it into my deck, was never laid on the table for me. I suppose I was lucky I knew it right off, didn't wait for that one to complete my hand before laying it all out in front of me. Opened up a whole new realm of possibilities really; nothing brings focus like a row of shut doors.
If I regret, I regret that I sold my anger too cheaply, let it flow out to easily. Never did come to a point the way it should've, instead spilling out into the world in a thousand rivulets that were dried up hours before the Sun hit its Zenith. If I could've held on, could've held back then there'd be enough there to break through, break out.
It came out at the wrong people and at the wrong time. In the end, what did it amount to? Even here, it's hard to add these things up, the numbers never do seem to stay in the proper column or the appropriate row. I've heard there's a ledger somewhere around here that keeps count but I haven't laid eyes on it. I suppose my entries would be mostly marked in red but I did what I could to tic off the debts I had. Not enough time, never enough time. Life has that nasty habit of slipping away out the back when you're running out the front to try to grab some more.
I haven't got remorse, not in the way you mean. It was my life and now we can all see it in whole. No surprise endings waiting around the corner, no last minute redemption or final failings to mar the whole thing in one misstep. If I wished to change it, well then it wouldn't be me wishing the change anymore would it? Can't reach back like that: no tinkering around after it's over.
Like I said, I knew the cards I had before it was over and I played them the only way I knew how. Wasn't always easy for the rest, and it wasn't any better for me but now that the games been played and we see where the chips lay... well my chips. Yours are still in motion, still hoping for that next turn of fate before you throw it all in. That's life I guess: motion. Schrödinger said that's definition, non-repeating, self-propagating motion. That's certainly all I see looking back, everything all a blur and nothing seeming to make sense. Maybe it makes sense to you, maybe your game is laid out just the way you expected.
No, no advice either, that goes the same time the regrets do. You saw my life, you saw how it turned out and what it turned up. No reason I would be in a better position to guide you now. Never paid much attention before either, why change it up mid-race? Maybe you were right not to listen then, certainly nothings obligating you to pay attention now.
It ended suddenly, always does, but it wasn't much a of a surprise. We all knew years before how the final pages would read and I certainly stuck to script. The two that did it: they seemed a bit unsure from moment to moment but in the end they did their part. People like that never have the commitment to quite lead their lives without stumbling around a bit and I suppose I was the one who suffered for it, but I came out all right didn't I? It's yours to say, my voice has left that choir.