It has been days since I've listened to the same Tori Amos song over and over. Maybe it could have some meaning...? Had a northern lad... God who painted that... I thought we'd be okay, me and my molasses...

I know these past entries have been nothing much being relevant to the same thing so repetitively. I suppose the only thing I have to express myself to its (near) fullest would be through my blog. At least I have people reading what I have to say half the time...

What I've been told lately was not to dread on the past, but work toward the future. Learn from your past mistakes and not repeat them. Ingore your feelings; try to rid of them. They will only cause you grief and problems. But even so - it seems to be both good and bad to have reverted back to these resurfacing thoughts and feels. Even though I can never have what I once had as my own, I can't help but think, will I ever have a second chance. Will I ever be committed. Would I have to wait until I'm 35. 

I knew during that time that I would heavily regret what I found myself doing. I would never know, but it would eventually happen. And already, it is. Because I finally realize what I lost. What I don't have. What could have been mine up to this day.

But now it's gone. He's already replaced. I'm already replaced. But... "what if?"

...I'm truely, deeply sorry for what I did to you.