Regret is a demon that feeds on time, warping moments into chains, shackling those who dare to look back. For Jonah, those chains were unbreakable, tightening with every passing year.
Jonah had always been a meticulous man, organized to the point of obsession. His life was a well-curated list, where nothing went unchecked. But there was one unchecked box that kept gnawing at him—a single, unchangeable moment from years ago. He could never go back, never undo it, and that truth brought forth the demon he now lived with every day.
It began quietly, almost imperceptibly. The faint whisper in the back of his mind. Remember that time you didn’t act? The voice was subtle at first, like the distant hum of a fan, easily ignored. But as the years wore on, the voice grew louder, transforming into a daily companion. No matter what Jonah did to distract himself, the regret demon stayed by his side, lurking in the corners of his thoughts, creeping into his dreams, and spreading its tendrils into every aspect of his life.
The incident, which had birthed this demon, was a decision he made—or rather didn’t make—years ago. It wasn’t a dramatic event, no car crashes, no catastrophic life choice. It was simply the failure to seize a moment, an opportunity to connect with someone who had mattered more to him than he ever admitted to himself. Emily. She was the friend who was always there, always kind, and always open to more if he had been brave enough to take that step.
But Jonah didn’t. He let her slip away without a word, telling himself that work was more important, that relationships could wait. He saw her move on, met her new partner at a mutual friend’s wedding, and plastered a smile on his face as though his chest wasn’t tightening with the weight of lost chances. He’d told himself it was just part of life, one of those fleeting could-have-beens.
Except, for Jonah, it wasn’t fleeting. That moment had festered in him, infecting his ability to make decisions, to form new connections, to live. It was like a slow poison, and by the time he realized how deeply it had penetrated his soul, it was too late to reverse the damage. He couldn’t reach out to Emily; she had moved away, married, and built a family. The door to that chapter was sealed shut, and yet, the regret demon wasn’t finished with him.
Now, every time Jonah made a decision, no matter how small, the demon was there, whispering doubt into his ear. What if this is another Emily? What if you’re missing out again? It didn’t matter if it was something trivial, like choosing where to eat for dinner, or something larger, like a career change. The paralysis was the same. He was stuck in a loop, reliving that lost opportunity, haunted by the knowledge that there was no fixing it.
His sleep was restless. Each night, the demon showed up in his dreams, growing larger, more tangible, like a beast feeding on his exhaustion. He would wake in a cold sweat, his heart racing, the image of Emily’s disappointed face fresh in his mind. In the dream, she would look at him with those eyes—disappointed, resigned—and say nothing. She didn’t have to. The silence was enough.
During the day, Jonah tried to function, but he was a shell of who he once was. Friends noticed his distance, but no one could understand the depth of his torment. How could they? To them, regret was fleeting. To Jonah, it was a living entity, a shadow clinging to him, pulling him down, making every step heavier than the last. He could hear its low growl behind him, feel its breath on his neck whenever he thought about making a choice.
There’s no solution, the demon would hiss, feeding on the hopelessness. You can’t go back. It’s done. You failed.
No matter how much Jonah wanted to move forward, the past had a stranglehold on his present. He could not make peace with the fact that some things are irreversible, that sometimes, all you can do is live with the consequences of inaction. He tried therapy, self-help books, meditation—nothing worked. The regret demon was relentless because the guilt itself was irrational, unyielding.
Jonah realized that the problem wasn’t what happened with Emily. It was the way he had allowed one missed moment to define him, to creep into every decision and warp his sense of self. The demon thrived not because of what he had lost, but because Jonah gave it power over him. The demon was his creation, born from years of internalizing every mistake, every missed opportunity, until it took on a life of its own.
But knowing this didn’t help. Jonah knew, logically, that he couldn’t undo the past. He knew that Emily was gone, that his chance with her was a blip in a much larger life story. But still, the demon persisted, because regret doesn’t listen to logic. It thrives in the heart, where reason falters.
Jonah could not change the past, and now, his present was slipping away, day by day, haunted by a decision that no longer mattered to anyone but him. His friends moved on, Emily moved on, but Jonah—he remained stuck, caught in the talons of a demon he couldn’t escape.
He sat alone one evening, staring at the rain streaking down his window. The demon sat beside him, as it always did. Jonah glanced over at it, its shadowy form towering, pulsing with power. And for the first time, he whispered, “I know I can’t fix it.”
The demon said nothing, but its presence felt heavier, denser, as though it too was realizing the depth of Jonah’s defeat. And so, they sat together, Jonah and the demon, partners in a life that could never be rewound, bound together by chains of regret, forever.
