And So It Is.

Aside from having Damien Rice stuck in my head, which always puts me in a pensive mood no matter how hard i try to ignore it, i'm decently happy.
my new-old-friend and i go back and forth about how we're "dying"; him of a ridiculously high fever and me of potential liver failure (kidding of course) ((well not him; he had the flu)).
and inevitably, "any life regrets" gets asked, joking or not.

i have but one regret.
not the excessive amount of scumbaggy assholes i've *barely* dated, taking up less than a year of my life per scumbag. not the friend choices, college choices, the fact that i started in 2006 and won't receive a Bachelor's degree until Dec 2012, not the amount of money i waste on something of a week-to-week basis, not the crummy relationship i have with my family, not the lack of real relationships that i've ever had.

nope, those are just tiny insignificant facts on my resume of life.

but one. one stupid little thing that i can't ignore. that i can't talk or cry or laugh or flirt my way out of. that i can't control. that has the potential to control me, or certain aspects of my life. that i eventually do need to inform person(s) of. that i will take to my grave from everybody else.

...just one, but if anyone asks, my answer will always be zero.