Worry, Spite, Doubt, Uncertainty...and Regret

In early December every year there is a local artist's bazaar that I have heard about but hadn't been to before. I have always wanted to go because I had heard that there is a lot of original art for sale by local artists, and I love having one of a kind art all over my house. This year Steve and I went to check things out, and I saw a lot I wanted to buy, but there was this painting in particular by an artist named Molly Call that I really, really, really wanted. I have seen her paintings before, and I love her look, it feels like a modern interpretation of Toulouse-Lautrec's poster art. This particular painting had a woman with long, dark hair holding a fork with the word "worry" on it, and then in the pit of her stomach there were other words like "spite", "uncertainty", "fret", and "woe," all emotions I unfortunately give into way too often. The thing that was really great and somewhat haunting about the piece was the look on the woman's face; a look I could totally relate to, the look of how I feel when I stuff myself full with these negative emotions to the point where I feel sick. Here is a couple of photos:


Because it wasn't cheap and Christmas was coming with all it's expenses, I decided not to go for it. We've met the artist and her husband through mutual friends, so I thought I could possibly get it later if by some chance it didn't sell.
The next day I was still thinking about how much I loved it, and decided to go back and get it as a little surprise Christmas gift for Steve and I. When I got there I looked right where it was the day before, and it was gone. I was pretty devastated because I had decided it was definitely coming home with me, but I tried to look at the bright side since I had at least saved the money. But really what I felt was some major regret.
A few days later I was talking to Mirjam on her birthday and was telling her the story of the painting that got away. All of a sudden, in the middle of my story, her face dropped and she asked me what the painting looked like. As it turns out, her husband Ethan had bought her the very same painting and given it to her that morning for her Birthday. I always knew Ethan had great taste. I have to admit that I did feel a little pang of jealousy that she gets this amazing painting, but I'm so happy someone great got it, and someone who's house I'm at often to admire it. And I learned next time I'm at the artist's bazaar to act on my impulses. I don't need to add regret to the list in the pit of my stomach.