Regret is that taste when you buy a pasta salad at the supermarket only to remember that you forgot you hated mayonnaise. Regret is that shock to your body after you look down at your phone while you’re driving and don’t realise the car in front of you is stopping until it’s too late. Regret is the pounding in your head after a night of heavy drinking to lessen the regret from the night before. Regret is that weight in your chest when things are left unsaid. Regret is that kick to your gut as someone you care about slams the proverbial door in your face.

What regret isn’t, is knowing I did everything I could and it just wasn’t good enough; that’s just a key left under the mat.