regret || on loving and losing

I have a lot of regrets about the relationship we had together. I suppose there are always those, "I wish" moments in every situation, and it's a terrible feeling. It makes you start to go a little crazy on the inside. Like: if we did this, we might still be together, if I said this, or didn't say that, it might have worked. The analyzing every piece of information you can gather, and every memory-made can drive a girl mad. And that is where I am at right now. I know it's the wrong place to be, and I shouldn't allow myself to think like this, but it's why I can't sleep at night. Tossing and turning over regrets. I don't have regrets in any other areas in my life except this one, and it's a hard thing to get over.


I regret not kissing him enough. I should have told him that I loved him more often--it's good to hear this. I regret not taking enough time looking at the stars with him. I regret not asking him all the things I wanted ask. I wonder about the kind of conversations we might have had if I had the courage to simply ask--if my insecurities didn't get in the way. I feel like I was only beginning to crack the surface of his soul. But maybe that's the beauty of loving someone, you always feel like there is so much more beauty and wonder under their surface.


 I regret memorizing his face while he slept--it's now burned into the backs of my eyelids like a tattoo. I regret smelling him, and realizing that smell isn't around anymore. I regret texting him daily, becuase now my phone never beeps. I regret telling him that I loved him, if I didn't maybe it wouldn't be true. I regret feeling like our relationship was always going to end the next day because we never made many plans, but I liked that, it was simple. I regret being shy around him and allowing my insecure feelings to get in the way of who I am. Trust me, I felt if I sang in the car he would break-up with me cause I suck at singing. I always made him tell me when the meat was done so if it was overcooked it wouldn't be my fault, (even though I know damn well when chicken is done) because if it was my fault, he might break-up with me. I lived an entire year like that. I regret not being the confident me. You see, maybe if I was more confident he wouldn't think he was dating some wussy-assed white girl who can't even sing her favourite song in the car.

You see all the things. I regret all the things. I regret not drinking beer at dinner when I really wanted one. I didn't because I thought he wouldn't want a girlfriend who drank beer on a daily basis. But I am, and I do. I look back, and I wasn't me. I regret that more than anything. I was acting* some girl I thought he might want. I wanted to build forts, fly kites, have bubble baths, do ridiculous things, toss coins to decide which way to go on random road trips, but instead we watched T.V. and made dinner together-fun, but not me. (*Save everything Christian I did...nobody comes before God.. )

It's funny, in love you can really lose sight of who you are.  You watch their shows, cheer for their teams, love their favourite foods, read books they liked, research everything they love so you are on it, as if your favourite things don't matter anymore. (Because trust me, his favourite things were always better than my favourite things...)

I look back, and I realize: I lost myself. I suppose if there is anything I learned from this, it is that. I lost who I was, and my goals and life didn't mater, and that's not right. That's not any life to live.