By Peh Zhi Ning (25A01B)

Last Friday, I was in a Shi Li Fang with a good friend, chatting with each other amidst mala-spiced steam and distant music, when she asked me, “If you could redo your life, what would you change?” 

What sprouted from this relatively random question was an hour-long conversation – we dug up all sorts of memories. Familial arguments, subject combinations, broken-off friendships, failed confessions, wasted time… I remember my friend laughing, a sad and nostalgic peal, as she said, “I could have been an astrophysicist.” 

I had matched her declaration with my own could-have-beens – trials I hadn’t gone for, experiences I didn’t try, risks I feared taking. Despite how little we’ve lived, our laundry list of regrets was surprisingly long and detailed, with innumerable plans of redemption already in our minds. By the time the soup in our pot simmered down to dregs, we had woven together perfect lives, without misstep or mistake – without regret.