Regret Theorem

It was my fault, you see.

He asked permission to leave.

It was my turn to "babysit."

And although I generally included our baby brother, never getting embarrassed of him when I was with my girlfriends, I just wanted a night to myself.

I simply said, "go ahead!"

He didn't need to wait for me.

It was my turn to live a little.

And even as I was saying it a little too gruffly, he giggled and smiled because he had the answer he wanted and would have left anyway but under a huff.

That huff would take time.

He'd have left a few minutes later.

It was my choice to not argue.

And he loved a good argument, especially if he could turn it back on you to make it make sense for whatever he wanted in that moment and without regret.

He didn't do regret; how strange that he is mine.