life without a shit-load of regrets means you're probably dead by now, or so i feel. there's no pain like the love of your life tearing out your internal organs and grinding them to a fucking disgusting paste, but enjoy it. you may not live to go trough it again. i sincerely thought that enjoying something does translate to having fun, but i might have got it wrong. i'm evidently not perfect. you probably haven't ever met a less perfect guy than me...ever. but i'm kinda fun to be around sometimes, people either laugh, stare or scream at me when i eventually fuck up. there's no avoiding it, all i can is try to delay it another week, maybe two. i've grown accustomed to it, even find it easier to blame myself rather than you. it might sound like a blame you for a lot of shit but that's just a little show i play sometimes, i always fuckin know i did something horribly wrong even when i don't remember doing anything. i blame myself for every random shitty thing i bang my head against, and just plain ain't healthy. what i really need is a crappy bottle ow wine to go with my wine and drink myself stupid like i did when i really lost you. you know there's no turning back time, forgiveness never really comes, we just pretend it does. so what's that regret, i hear you ask(in my stupid little mind)? awww, no... that's just me talking to myself. no matter, i'm still the stupid fuck-up, still fun.
