He got away – the seductiveness of lives not lived

This is something that has been on my mind recently, the idea of lives, of possibilities, of worlds where you could've been and yet were not, simply because it wasn't meant to be. Or was it?
There are always choices, we're told, and many of us choose to believe this, that it depends on us and us entirely. I've always thought that taking responsibility for something is awfully daunting. I'm always impressed when I see someone take full responsibility for their actions, because yes, I am one of those who think that our choices are our own and that our lives are our own.
Yes, but what if I'm wrong?

Because, judging from this perspective, I'm tempted to say that we live the life we make for ourselves, that what happens (or doesn't happen) in our existence on this Earth is, by and large, dependent on us. I cannot expect to win the lottery if I never buy a ticket, can I? And yet, part of me would like to believe in the extraordinary. There's this other side of me that wants to argue with what I just said and would very much like to point out that we are not in control at all. We only determine a small fraction of what happens to us and that many of the events in our lives are just happenings of chance, a unique combination of circumstances that led to this particular outcome.
Take, if you will, the all-too-common phrase I used in the title – 'he got away' or 'the one that got away' – and think about what it means. Sometimes, it refers to a relationship that ended too soon, but often, it refers to something that never was – a relationship that, in other circumstances, might've worked brilliantly, but in this ones, did not even exist. Then, whose fault is it?
Did I do something to prevent it from happening? Perhaps, sometimes we do. But what if I didn't, what if it depended on someone else's actions or simply, on an event that neither controlled? What theory do we back then? Are we, indeed, responsible for our actions and in this case, our loss? Or is it just a happening of chance?

But this is a debate as old as time – the old 'do you believe in fate?'. And does it really matter? Is it really important if it was my fault or rather, a conspiracy of the forces that be? Why? It did not happen and until we can determine some further connection, that's all we've got – the cold fact that it never existed.
And we're hooked on it.

Seriously, have you noticed (perhaps in yourself, perhaps in another) that 'the one that got away' gets far more fame and time of thought than the ones that didn't get away? We like to dwell on what might've been, rather than what was and we imagine 'if only it would've happened' more than we imagine 'if only I hadn't been a jerk to X'.
It doesn't really matter why it didn't happen, just that it did not, because then, it allows us to dream, to imagine, to build fantasies on its stumps.
We humans are big on building fantasy lives.

What if I'd taken that job? What if I'd given that guy a chance? What if I'd followed the little voice in my head and moved to California?

And the truth is, it doesn't really matter, because if you'd followed through with those things, if you'd done all of this, they would be of little matter, because then, you would take them for granted. It wouldn't be a wistful 'ah, but what if I'd gone out with X', but rather 'oh boy, what a failure that was'.
And even if the thing itself wasn't a failure, you would take it for granted, the guy, the move, the job, everything. Because it happened. And you don't care as much about the things that did happen, do you? Because they leave no space for imagination. Or at least, not as much.
And our minds like to journey, to run, to experience worlds unseen, which is why we like to think about the guy and the job and the place that we did not.
So, we wouldn't care as much about the one that got away if he did not get away, because he'd be a fact and facts are far less interesting. Even more, we'd probably have another on our mind – another could've been to fantasize about.

Because, in the words of my dearest Lemmy, 'the chase is better than the catch'. Wanting something is better than actually having it, usually, at least in our heads. And we regret that the only thing that happened was a small flirt, a fleeting glimpse in our mind with the life we might've had. But that small something gives birth to a huge other thing, a story in our imagination, a fantasy, an escape. There's no point in regretting something didn't happen, because if it had, then you wouldn't be dreaming about what could've been and thus, wouldn't be regretting. It's a very strange circle.

We don't want it. We don't want what didn't happen, we just want to be allowed to dream. We don't want the fact, we want the fantasy. And that's, I think, one of the greatest things about humans. And one of the worst.