There's nothing I hate more then regrets.

In fact, I hate them so much that I couldn't even come up with a song lyric that applies. Shocking. I hate that feeling that I should've said or done something differently or not at all. I hate that I can't let it go, no matter how small and unimportant it is. I hate thinking that maybe I won't have a second chance. And I absolutely, positively hate the fact that no matter what I do, I always look back and feel as though I've made a mistake. This time around, there are so many things I wish I'd told Ben - That he made a depressing evening into a spectacular one. That it was so much fun to watch him join in on the drums. I really, REALLY wish I'd told him about the drum circles. Cause, see, I'm delusional, and I've decided that telling him that would tempt him to come back. Ridiculous, right? I got to talk to Ben Grubin, and all I can think about is what I really should've said. Stupid little things I wish I'd said. But what if I don't get a second chance? It's not just Ben. It's never just one thing...
Aaron Marsh. He was right there. I literally walked right past him and I didn't know what to say... So I didn't say anything. And now I don't get a second chance. And even when I do, sometimes I still don't take it...
Jon Foreman, for instance. I've met him TWICE now and I still haven't told him that he's one of my favorite people in the world, that Switchfoot has changed my outlook, that when I hear "Dare You To Move" I remember I'm alive, really alive.
Stephen Christian. I really did intend to tell him how much he's helped me through the problems I've had in the past, but when I met him I couldn't quite do it. I just didn't know how. I don't really know how to tell anyone about that time in my life, not the full extent of it... But if I could figure it out, he'd be the one I'd tell. The one I'd trust to understand and to care and to really grasp how much he'd helped me out.

...still trying to figure out that song lyric.