It slowly eats me up from within.

Regret; unforgiving and judgmental. “You asked for it.” It tells me, the cold eyes don’t blink. I know. I know.

On regular days, it finds me when I am sitting lazily, drinking lemon water and honey because apparently it’s good for you. It makes me draw in sharp breaths, in quick succession. Are there chances to be good again? Mean laughter from a dark place. No phones ring and no messages reach.

On particularly bad days, it sticks by my side, like an annoying relative in a dull marriage. Mocking me, reminding me of how I was wrong and how wrong I was. While I try and sleep, it jumps up from behind me, even in the safety of my mind, and catches me off guard.

The God of Small things has the greatest lines ever written. I quote them every chance I find.

“That’s what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.”

Love is a tricky word, it could mean different things to different people.

But there were careless words involved. That’s the thing about stuff you say. Try as you may, you can’t ever really scrub it off people’s memories.

My regret and I often have winding conversations. Needless to say, I am always defeated.