Where is the damn hatchet?

Regret is one of the things I'm most afraid of. It's a sick, helpless feeling and something I've always wanted to stay clear of. Now I find myself being swallowed up by it much against my will. Why is it that when things don't work out I find myself regretting the past? Why do I find myself wishing I hadn't been so impulsive, hadn't been so impatient to find out what tomorrow would bring? Why did I always think that today was something I could always come back to, like an unfinished book or a half-eaten sandwich?
 
Then suddenly, there were no more todays; only tomorrows that became yesterdays too soon. I feel the same now. Not only have I fired shots in the dark, it turns out I have fired blank shots in the dark. And regret is creeping up on me, slimy and slick. Like a goddamn snake. The other thing I fear so much.

I hate it when I have to watch two separate halves of me fight. You should have, you shouldn't fuckin have... And I don't know if I'll ever be as good as I want to be, if I'll ever be as good as I could have. If only I had let myself find out. If only I can let go of this feeling.
 
And so the fight continues. I just wish we could bury the damn hatchet over this. I want to be able to smile and think, "There'll always be more mushrooms to pick." Or more importantly, "There'll always be different mushrooms to pick."