Regret
The Other Door
Pain measured against a version of events that never happened. The better outcome was available and was not taken, and the mind keeps the unused branch alive in order to keep comparing. Guilt requires a line to have been crossed. Regret requires only that a choice existed.
The word
Old French regreter, to lament, above all to lament the dead, usually traced to a Germanic verb for weeping. The word began at the graveside and migrated inward: from mourning a person to mourning a decision, the death of an outcome that was never born.
The feeling
It arrives in the conditional tense. The mind runs the other branch on a loop: the offer taken, the sentence unsaid, the door used. The body keeps a low flinch that fires at the memory the way it would at a sudden noise. Regret has excellent recall and no statute of limitations; it can reach back decades and land as if the choice were still open.
Against its neighbours
Guilt requires a line crossed, and points at the person harmed; regret requires only a fork, and points at yourself. Grief mourns what existed and was lost. Regret mourns what never existed at all.
In the work
One path taken and the other still legible. The unused direction is rendered at lower weight and not removed, so the frame holds a decision and its alternative at once.
No work carries Regret yet. The element is named and the table is not finished.