Ask yourself this if you ended your life, would it truly change anything?
Sit with the question. Don't rush past it. Let it weigh on you the way regret already does, the way certain memories come back at night when everything is quiet. You know you've made mistakes. Not small ones either the kind that replay in your head, the kind you wish you could reach back and undo. Some days you almost convince yourself that those mistakes define you.
But here's the truth we rarely say out loud: regret is not proof that you failed as a human being. It's proof that you care.
Trying to be a better person doesn't mean you suddenly stop falling. Sometimes it means you fall the same way again and that hurts even more, because now you know better. Yet each time, you notice something new. A warning sign. A feeling in your chest. A moment where you could choose differently next time. Growth is messy like that. It doesn't look heroic. It looks human.
No one on this earth is perfect. Not your heroes. Not the people you admire. Not the smartest person in the room. Anyone who claims perfection is lying to you, or to themselves. Even the most intelligent minds make mistakes. Even the strongest hearts break. Even the calmest people lose control sometimes.
So if you're still here, breathing, trying even clumsily that already means something has changed. It means the story isn't over. It means you're allowed to learn, to fail, to regret, and still wake up tomorrow with another chance to do a little better than yesterday.
Not perfect. Just better. And that is enough to keep going.