A man I know who, in an instant, threw away his marriage, wife and children for the attentions of another, younger woman, is now regretting his impulsiveness, and part of him, at least, wishes he was back with his family.
The man's name, which I cannot reveal for personal reasons, left his wife of 22 years, and two children aged 15 and 9, in April, throwing their lives into chaos, and his own into something approaching it.
Now, however, nearly five months later, he is experiencing deep pangs of guilt, and having problems deciding what to do about them.
His mind is a mess with the turmoil, his memory is short, and he finds it difficult to concentrate or to think straight.
The man is also suffering physically as well as mentally. His diabetes control has been shattered, as has his sleep pattern. Nowadays, he sleeps as much on the bus as he does in his bed, and his weight has plummetted dramatically; few of his clothes now fit him.
Regret, however, is one thing, and doing something about it, another.
Lack of resolve has left this individual blindly traipsing down an ever-descending spiral staircase into oblivion. Worse awaits him, no doubt, and his future appears to be in the balance.
As I waited next to him at the bus stop this morning, I heard him mutter:
"There is no comfort. Our lives dismay us. We all have dreams of leaving, and it is the same for everyone I know."
I have grave doubts about what will happen to him next.