sit back and relapse.

I feel like on almost every Facebook and- here's a throwback for you- Myspace profile I have seen, people publicly declare something along the lines of, “I live my life with no regrets and I don’t care what you think of what I do! If you say otherwise, then you can go fuck yourself!”

Well, I call bullshit on those people. Why? Because I used to be one of them.

Yes, I am, secretly, a regret-oholic.

Back in high school, I said I lived life with no regrets- that was a complete lie. One, I was in high school and stupid. Two, I overthink things. After all, if I lived life with no regrets then there would be no beccanalysis.

Today, whenever there is a less than favorable situation that happens in my life, I try to approach it with a “fuck it” kind of attitude. I let things roll off me and I move on with a smile and (usually) a pair of very high heels on.

But while my skin has gotten tougher during my time at college and I am slowly recovering from my regret-oholism, I’ve learned recently that my heart still needs some hardening.

At the beginning of the semester, I had an amazing thing going for me. I don’t open my heart up very often, but this was different. I don’t usually bother with relationships because, way more often than not, they stress me out. They’re not worth my time.

Except, this was different- this was easy. While everything else in my life was driving me to the point of insanity, this was one of the most effortless things I’d ever experienced.

It was good. So good. Too good.

And that was why I ended it. And now, I cannot stop thinking about it and how I let fear ruin a perfectly good thing.

The worst part about regret is when you know the damage is done and things will never be the same. The world tells you to move on. Stand up, grow a pair and get over it.

I used to think the exact same thing. However, I realized that mentality was making me less and less human and more and more of a shell- hollow, without any substance, on the inside.

The loss of one of the few good things in my life recently has reminded me that, yes, I am human. I have emotions- more than I would like to admit to- and the fact that I no longer feel in control of them scares me.

But as I look at the bottom left-hand corner of my Facebook and see the small photo of that face just looking at me, I am trying to think of how different things would be if I had allowed myself to let go of all my fear and all my control issues.

The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. My name is Becca and I am a regret-oholic.

And, unfortunately, I have relapsed.