Now I get it, I really do.

The fleeting hope,

the crushing pain,

the gnawing regret.

I understand the turmoil I put you through.

I'm sorry.

For you, for me, for her.

We all suffer in this mess.

How can I heal your heart

when I'm still wounded myself?

How am I to guide you to hope

when I too am still lost?

The tears flow and fall,

mix and mingle,

various sources sharing a mutual pain

dealt by all, felt by all.

If I said I regret nothing,

I'd be lying.

You know what I mean, don't you?