A Brief Look at Regret

I noticed him shortly after we walked in the room. He stood out for some reason. He looked as if he didn't belong. He was a scrunny kid, wearing a mustard yellow sweater, rust colored jeans, and a fedora perched atop his mini fro. I thought him strange but docile. He sat away from the crowd but he watched intently. Had I known in that moment the devastation he would leave behind, I would've crushed him where he stood. That moment still holds regret. We were never the same.