Some days I wake up very early, before the sun comes up and I go up on the roof of my building and just breathe and be alone in the city. I breathe in the entire experience. Before the horns start to sound and the people are up and around I find a quiet time to commune with what is now my home. It's always been there, quiet and innate, soft and infinite. As I have become more aware of the city at this hour I have come to realize I have been missing out on some excellent parts of life. I feel like some precious time has been wasted.
But it's ok to leave bits of ourselves behind whether material or emotional. I think we are often so concerned with and connected to our possessions we feel we must be responsible for everything we have come to own (time included). I find a lot of emotion tied up with food I have purchased and have been unable to consume before it went bad or expired. The feeling of wasting something seems abhorrent to me. But what is this other than some sort of reaction to other aspects of existence. (I need a reference here.) I'm sure you can think of similar situations where you felt as if something was wasted. It could have been time or money or some other resource. Doesn't this play out in all of our lives on some level every day? Aren't we all trying to make them most of what we have?
I know a man who by my estimation has wasted years of his life yet he exists and can not be said to be fully unhappy. From an outside observer's perspective this man may live a wretched and miserable existence. Who are we to say how this person feels? All we can do is focus on ourselves and try to make the most out of who we are and what our perspective can give to the world. If it matters to someone they will listen.