That was it?!

My name doesn't need to be known. I am 37 years old. I live in the USA. I have a father, a mother, and a sister. I am working at an office in Michigan. When I was 6 years old I went from kindergarten to elementary school. There it started. 

I found friends, I lost friends. I played with them, I cried because of them. Most people experienced that.

As I got into middle school and high school other things started to change. The boys began to care about the girls and the girls about the boys. Some boys liked boys, some girls liked girls. In short, everyone liked someone. 

I was the same. 

Well, to be exact I wasn't. I was shy. I never really dared to confess to a girl.

Don't get me wrong. I talked to girls, but mostly due to some friends of mine being friends with them. After a short phase, I got quite comfortable with them and spoke to them like my male friends. But there was one problem—a big one at that.

I couldn't confess my love to them. I was way too anxious to get rejected. Sounds dumb?

Yes, it is fuc*ing dumb, but that was my way with girls for that period.

As for the boys. 

As I mentioned earlier. I had male friends. To be precise, one friend group. They were pretty popular, but I felt excluded due to them having quite a few other friend groups and me only having them. It was hell for me. 

Especially after not going to any parties or the like. I hated them, because I was told the effects and consequences of alcohol the whole time.

What didn't help was one of my grandparents dying due to cancer. I got depressed. I couldn't go to any psychologist due to my depression. Why? I was living in a small town, where the nearest psychologic was in the next biggest town. As for the doctor? Don't even mention him. He is a friend of my family and would tell them about it right away. 

Why that would be bad? I didn't want my family to worry and it wasn't like I would commit suicide. I just felt anxious and sometimes didn't understand anything.

Why not drive there myself? Same thing. Too young, would need to be driven, and didn't have an excuse to go there every other week.

After going to college I parted ways with my old friend group. 

Now I was alone. 

I thought that could be a new beginning. But no. The same thing over, but this time I didn't have any friend group. I was alone.

The only advantage of that was that I could watch a lot of TV and learn many things in the time, where other people partied.

Due to that I started to work at Ford in an office building in Michigan. That was the beginning of the next part of my life. 

Working.

I rented an apartment in Michigan and started to concentrate on my job. I did go partying one time, but no.

There was alcohol there too. I didn't drink it due to the teachings I got when I was young. I got cigarettes offered. I didn't take them, due to my grandparent dying of cancer even though he didn't even smoke. I even got offered drugs. I didn't take them, because they were against the law.

That was my only party. 

At the age of 26, I had my first girlfriend. Pretty old right?

I met her on a dating site. We dated for 9 months and then she broke up with me.

She said I lacked ecstasy and was a slave to myself and the rules I imagined myself. That sounded like indirect advice, but I ignored it.

After her followed two other girlfriends. 

Both are from dating sites. Nothing long.

That was how my life went.

Never doing anything risky or doing anything against my rules or the rules of my country, for example, driving over the speed limit. 

Things everyone did. I didn't.

Now we are at today. I am 37 years old and telling my story to myself in my head while driving back home. 

I drove to the right lane, due to another car wanting to overtake but couldn't as I was driving too slow, the other lane was blocked and there were only two lanes.

Now I drove behind a truck carrying logs. I saw the truck in front of me make an emergency brake and brake as fast as I could. I could brake shortly before the truck.

"I was lucky.", I thought while sighing not noticing a big log sliding down from the top of the truck probably getting loosened by the big brake. 

The log broke through the windshield and smashed into my face. 

I was dead.

There was no helping me.

After that, the memories of my whole life ran past me.

I only thought.

That's it I died like that? 

After seeing my memories I realised what a shit life I had. What life have I even lived? If you could even call it a life.

After that I knew I only had one regret at death. Not like most people who had many regrets or some who had none.

But mine differentiated from the usual regret as I had a very big one.

My regret was my whole fuc*ing life.