You asked me if I would regret anything,
if I died today-
(getting dangerously close
to a question that prompted
my first ever dance).

I don't know if I can regret any actions,
because I wouldn't feel the way I do,
if I hadn't made the choices that got me here.
(You called me a blessing, with campfire smoke in my hair).

I don't know what happened
along this road.
I don't know if the like turned to love,
or if it ever could have.
(But I know for sure I liked the feel of your hand on my back).

I don't know what I wanted,
as the dying year passed us by.
(My pajamas embarrassed me, and I tried to be cool, and I tried not to hurt you).

I regret hurting you.
I regret not telling you the whole story.
I regret that we would never have had enough time anyway.  

(I've never regretted you, though).