The Lives We Don’t Live

What Dark Matter Teaches Us About Choice, Regret, and Being Present

Have you ever wondered what your life would look like if you’d made a different choice? If you’d taken that job, stayed in that relationship, moved to another city, or pursued the thing you once thought would define you?

It’s the question that sticks with me while watching the Apple TV+ series Dark Matter. One that gets surprisingly painful if we spend too much time living in the hypothetical.

Dark Matter, based on Blake Crouch’s novel, takes this question to its logical extreme. Strip away the sci-fi box that opens parallel universes, and the show asks a brutally simple question: What are we actually giving up every time we make a choice?

Every Choice Comes With a Loss

The premise of Dark Matter revolves around a physicist who creates a box that allows access to parallel universes. After making a significant life choice years earlier, he becomes dissatisfied with the life he has built and attempts to access a different version of it.

In one reality, he pursued his scientific ambitions. In another, he chose a quieter life with a loving wife and family. He begins to wonder whether he made the right choice.

What makes this premise land isn't the multiverse physics. It's the human assumption that somewhere out there, another version of us got it right.

We tend to approach major life decisions as though we can collect everything: career triumphs, deep stability, total freedom, and constant adventure. But pursuing one path inherently means letting another go. Every meaningful choice involves some degree of loss.

We rarely acknowledge that loss in the moment. We’re focused on what we’re gaining and where we’re heading. The alternatives we leave behind feel abstract or irrelevant—until, years later, they don't.

The Grief Hidden Inside Good Decisions

We recognize grief when something breaks or ends badly. We rarely talk about the subtle grief that accompanies a positive choice.

Choosing a career path might mean letting go of an artistic passion. Choosing to commit to a family changes the freedom you used to take for granted. Leaving a relationship—even one that has run its course—means grieving the future you once envisioned.

These losses don't mean you made a mistake, they mean you had something meaningful enough to lose. You can be genuinely happy with your choices and still feel sad about the roads you didn't walk. That sadness isn't proof of regret or a flawed life; it’s just the cost of being limited to one reality.

Is a Midlife Crisis Really About Regret?

It's easy to imagine a midlife crisis as the moment when we suddenly realize we've made all the wrong choices. We look at the life we've built and wonder what might have happened if we'd done things differently.

I wonder how much of that dissatisfaction comes from the choices themselves, and how much comes from the things we haven't allowed ourselves to feel along the way.

When we consistently ignore the losses that accompany our decisions, those feelings don't necessarily disappear. We might find ourselves looking backwards, imagining alternative lives, or becoming increasingly dissatisfied with our present circumstances.

The grass starts looking greener somewhere else.

Sometimes, that dissatisfaction is telling us something important. Perhaps we've outgrown a career, a relationship, or a way of living. We aren't obligated to remain on a path simply because we chose it twenty years ago.

However, sometimes, imagining a different life becomes a way of avoiding the feelings we're experiencing in this one. Instead of asking what would make our present lives more fulfilling, we become preoccupied with the idea that we wouldn't be struggling if we'd made different choices.

We imagine a hypothetical alternative without any of our current problems, forgetting that every version of life comes with its own friction. Comparing real life to an idealized imaginary one is never a fair fight.

Small Choices Shape Everything

We tend to think of crossroads as dramatic moments when we must choose between two clearly defined paths. But our lives are also shaped by the quieter decisions we make every day.

Are we paying attention to what feels meaningful? Are we noticing when something no longer fits? Are we making choices based on what matters to us now, or are we continuing along a path simply because we've always been on it?

Being present gives us more opportunities to notice when we're moving away from what matters. It also allows us to make adjustments before we find ourselves somewhere we never intended to go.

We don't need to anticipate exactly where every decision will lead. We need to stay curious enough about our experience to recognize when something has changed.

Relationships Are Built (and Crumble)
in the Small Moments

We don't usually grow apart because of one enormous decision. More often, distance develops through a series of small moments when we stop turning towards each other.

A partner reaches out, but we're distracted. A friend makes an effort, but we're too busy to respond. Something feels uncomfortable in a conversation, so we let it go rather than risk an awkward discussion.

Individually, these moments can seem insignificant. We tell ourselves it doesn't matter. There will be another opportunity.

But how many times can we make that choice before the relationship begins to change?

Did You Grow Apart, or Did You Choose Apart?

When we repeatedly avoid small moments of discomfort, we might also miss opportunities for connection. A slightly awkward conversation could help us understand each other better. A moment of vulnerability could bring us closer. A small gesture of care could remind someone that they matter to us.

This doesn't mean every uncomfortable interaction needs to become a serious conversation, or that we're responsible for maintaining every relationship indefinitely.

It means paying attention.

When something feels off, can we pause long enough to notice it? Can we become curious about what's happening rather than immediately moving past it? The same applies to the moments when someone reaches towards us. Can we recognize those invitations to connect, even when responding requires a little extra effort?

Our relationships aren't shaped only by the big decisions we make together. They're also shaped by the countless smaller decisions about whether we turn towards each other or away.

The invitations to connect are everywhere, but they aren't endless.

You Can't Live Every Life. Make This One Count.

There's a part of me that finds the limitations of being human genuinely frustrating. There are so many things I want to experience, so many possible versions of a life I could imagine living. I would love to know what those other paths might have held.

Curiosity about other possibilities doesn't have to become dissatisfaction with the life we have. In fact, imagining alternatives can help us see our current lives differently. We might return to what we've chosen with a renewed appreciation for why it matters to us. Or we might realize that something no longer fits and that it's time to make a change. Either way, the point isn't to discover the one perfect path, it's to become more conscious of the path we're on.

We are not simply uncovering some fixed version of ourselves. We are also shaped by our experiences, our relationships, and the choices we make along the way. We can't do everything. We can't experience every possibility or know how our lives would have unfolded if we'd chosen differently.

We can, however,  pay attention to what matters to us now. We can acknowledge the losses that come with choosing. We can make small course corrections when we notice we're moving away from what feels meaningful. We can keep asking ourselves whether the life we're choosing reflects the life we want.

Some Questions to Ponder

If you could revisit a crossroads in your life, would you choose differently? Or would you want to understand the road not taken and then return to the life you've built? Perhaps the more useful question is this: What is one small choice you could make today that would bring you closer to the life you actually want to be living?

You don't need a parallel universe to explore that possibility. You just need to pay attention to the one you're in. Sometimes, the most meaningful shifts begin with a little curiosity about where we are right now.