Wanna know a somewhat secret?

On the inside, where no one can really see, I'm tearing myself apart. Even though it's what's best, I still have to distract myself from the guilt and shame that always seems to pop up without any kind of warning... And then I hate myself, and then I wish I had my own little TARDIS (sorry, watching Doctor Who on Netflix) to go back in time with and fix everything. Why? Because I regret it.