I don't have regrets. I firmly believe that for something to truly be a regret, you must willingly and actively do something to address the situation.  If the totality of said situation is only that you "wish you'd done things differently", then it's a mistake, not a regret.

I'm saddened by how things ended with Meg and I, but that's as far as I'm willing to go.

But let's go back a bit.  Not too far, but let's rewind a few months to a critical moment in my life.  At the time I wouldn't recognize its importance, and yet it would be the beginning foundation of events that would come to shape the very blueprint that makes me, Me.

I grew up playing a lot of video games. As a very young kid, that came primarily in the form of the SNES.  Even before the accident, I loved gaming. I would play any and every game I could get my hands on. I never got bored of immersing myself in different realities and environments, I actively sought to escape the real world wherever and whenever I could.

After my father moved Chelsea and I out of the garage and into a small house in Waymart, my grandmother was kind enough to bless our new home with a computer as a house warming gift.  The second it was out of the box, I was on it. Keep in mind this is the early stages of home computers, and an even earlier stage of the Internet.  I played default games and whatever market games my father would buy.  The important thing was, I had found another outlet to immerse in alternate worlds. My love for escaping reality continued to flourish.

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