I once toasted to creating regrets. To know that those infinite possibilities of living are available, but in that moment only one can be lived. To know that we don’t miss places or people, we miss moments. That perfect confection of our self in the moment, the people who strolled through, and the place we happened upon. That will never be repeated.
A toast to regrets. Moments of melancholy. The drifting grin of nostalgia.