I have regrets. I'm only human, after all.
For the most part they're small things...I remember not saying thank you to someone who offered me her seat on a bus last year.
I would gladly take back bailing on my mum when we'd planned to meet up at a festival.
It'd be nice had I ever strictly kept one of the numerous diaries I've started over the years.
There's a couple of people I wish I hadn't invited to my wedding.
And I regret not being brave.
Five years ago, also in Autumn, I was watching this amazing violin busker in the city. I was waiting for someone and did what I normally did to pass time - scribbled in my sketchbook. I tore the drawing of the violinist (which wasn't a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, but I was pretty proud of at the time) out of my book, folded it up and waited for the right moment to casually drop it in his violin case and walk away.
I wish I could do brave little things, write brave things and speak brave things. I have a lot of pictures and a lot of words that, for better or worse, go unseen and unwritten.
I'd like to say I'll change... but I didn't drop the drawing in then, and I'm not sure that I would now.
