The one who got away.

I’m rather sleep-deprived today, so I’m stealing an idea from The Daily Post blog.

Describe the one who got away.

For me, the one that got away was an opportunity, not a person.  And as usual, it was because of a guy.

All through high-school I was obsessed with French and planned to take a year off and live in France; travel, eat baguettes and brie, lounge in fields of lavender, you get the picture.   But just before my last year of highschool, I met a guy.  No hugely romantic story – we were both 17 and drinking at a mutual friend’s birthday party.  But it was love.  And so leaving him for a year, being apart, it was suddenly not an appealing prospect.  There was never any formal decision made on my part, I just stopped thinking about France, stopped planning, and instead planned to go to University.

In the end I’m glad I stuck with this guy, because I married him a few years later, and now we have the world’s cutest (and chubbiest!) son, and my life is complete.  But I do look people who have travelled (heck, half my highschool class seems to live in London according to FaceBook!) and feel vaguely envious and regretful.   But what would life be without a few regrets?  I’d rather regret not travelling, than regret not spending my life with the man I love.  And perhaps I will follow in the footsteps of my parents, who never travelled until we moved out of home, and in the past 5 years have been to Vietnam, Japan, France, Italy and the UK.  At least if we wait that long we should be able to afford it!

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