Je regrette...

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”Je regrette…“
There are so many ways to end that sentence, in French or in English.
It’s strange that, although I know so many, they all have one theme,
A common thread upon which they rely.
You.
Je regrette… I regret…
Men can be animals, prying on the weak; aspiring to be the strong.
You act the lion but you are the slug.
Je regrette que vous laisser entrer dans vie
I regret letting you into my life.
You’ve made me feel like a nobody; like nothing I do is worth anything.
I’ve seen you treat chewing gum on your trainers better than you treated me.
Je regrette de vous donner mon coeur
I regret giving you my heart.
I’ve thought for a while how you twisted me round your finger; manipulating me into something I wasn’t.
I’ll never let that happen again.
Je regrette l’espoir d’une chance de fair les choses entre nous.
I regret hoping for a chance to put things right between us.
My heart is back where is belongs,
Shattered, twisted, broken, obliterated but still back where is belongs
Je regrette de ne pas rompre avec vous plus tot
I regret not breaking up with you sooner
I finally got my head straight, I finally came round to the idea you may not be perfect, not for me anyway…
And then you go and prove it, the evidence is solid, the witnesses statements watertight. You’re not getting out of this one.
Je veux etre enfin libre de la culpabilite et de regret je me sens tous les jours…
I want to finally be free of the guilt and regret I feel everyday.
Je regrette, je regrette…





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