She lived in a big house with a small mind.

She created ugliness in beauty and chaos in peace.

She lived out her days longing for what used to be while completely ignoring what was right in front of her.

She filled herself up with regrets and stopped noticing all of her blessings.

The people in the big house tried to remind her but she had closed herself off to them.

Swept up in her own ideas about life and how little she mattered, she looked the other way when they tried to convnce her how much she was loved.

As life went on, that big house stayed the same but became less and less crowded, until one day it was just her.

All alone with her small mind, with her small life in a big house.

Alone, lost and sad.

All her life she looked backwards while all the while life was moving forward, to this exact time, this exact moment.

As she sat in a chair, in that big house, with her small mind, she all too sudden became aware of how small her life really was.

It was just her.

Everyone else had moved away, moved on or passed away.

While they had been here, she had avoided them because they had reminded her of everything she wasn’t.

They reminded her of the dreams she didn’t pursue, the future she’d never have, the goals she’d never accomplished.

While she had a family, she had pushed them away with her bitterness and hate for what she had become, somehow blaming them.

Now that they had gone, now that it was too late,

she realized that all along she had, had it all.

The marriage, the family, the big house, the dream.

She had been blind to all of it, wishing for everything else.

It had destroyed her, her marriage, her family.

The real regret was now, the end of this all, what she had become.

A lonely, widowed woman whose heart had closed off all love.

Whose small mind had created a small life.

In a big house that was now empty.