Identity...

What am I trying to say here?  That I'm somehow okay with my regrets?  That I've accepted them?  Not hardly.  Maybe it's that I've accepted the idea of them?  That while I might still lie awake at night tortured by all the things I wish I could do differently, I've at least accepted that they are a part of my life now and always will be.  That my life will not be a life free of regret.  That I will eventually die feeling unfulfilled and unsatisfied and wishing things had turned out other than they did.  And, again, I'm not okay with that.  I don't think it's fair and it pisses me off and I'll fight it until the last speck of light has gone out of my eyes.  But I've accepted that it is going to happen.  It's too late now and there's nothing I can do about it.  I'll still fight it, because what else is there?  But I don't expect to change it.  And I won't feel like I've failed when I don't.  It's the fight that is important.  The struggle.  Not victory.  There is no victory over a life of regret.  Choices made cannot be un-made.  Roads taken cannot be backtracked.  Who we have decided to become is who we are and we cannot become someone else no matter how much we may want to.  And we have no one but ourselves to blame.  Our choices have led us here and so here we are.  Like it or not.  And if you don't like it then fight it but don't ever hope to change it.  Regret has swallowed you whole and the best you can hope for is a candle to light the darkness awhile.  We all live with regret.  A constant companion with claws in our neck.  Life is ignoring those claws tearing at our skin.  Life is shrugging our shoulders and saying "Yeah?  So what?  That the best you got?  Fuck you.  That ain't nothin'.  And you ain't gonna stop me.  Fuck, you ain't even gonna slow me down."