I think regrets are part of being human. I carry heavy regrets, and I'm ashamed of them. Homework. I tuck them away somewhere; somewhere I don't have to look too far. I have the kind of regrets that leave marks on the upper traps. The kind that alters my body, and mind. Heavy books for a frail frame.
Regret. The person that changed everything. Guilt. The distant friend. Often, I wish that I had the kind of stability that prevented me from hurting you. I am happy to have regretted you. I learned a lot. If you were meant to see a person again, you will.