I’m not the regretful type. I can be emotional, but regret registers low on my feelings spectrum. I wish I could say that, rather than regret things, I value the very pure, very distilled fallout of my more devastating mistakes—you know, those out-of-body learning experiences that force you to rethink everything you thought you knew about yourself yet totally had wrong. But let’s be real. I don’t let myself get devastated by mistakes to begin with. Wait, do I even make mistakes of the magnitude that devastate? It’s hard for me to tell anymore.

It’s Regrets Week though, so in honor of Valentine’s Day—and in lieu of delving into an actual regret (like having to publish this the day after Michael Miner’s startlingly beautiful Regrets Week post)—I’ll revert to exploring “the dark side of romance,” as Miner did so well.