Grasping at the Wind

So I've discovered that working out like a mad person pretty much negates my need for sleep. It all seems very counter-intuitive to me, but the more energy I expend during the day, the more wired I am at night. I wonder if there is a limit to this?

Anyway, I'm down to about 3-4 hours of sleep a night. That means a lot of time to talk to people, read, play video games, etc... I alternate between distracting myself from the the contemplations of life and lying on my bed in deep reflection. So I can't say I'm indulging in escapism, just breakism.

Do I feel guilty about how my last relationship ended? Yes, if I'm honest about it. I don't like knowing I'm the one who did the hurting at the last. I'd much rather have been horribly mistreated so I could feel free of any responsibility. But that just isn't how it happened. My own personal hurt was slow and steady, culminating into a gnawing need for something to change. But who was to blame? When compatibility is the issue, when you discover maybe you didn't fit someone as well as you thought, who can you point the finger at? Especially when at the end, you still consider the other a good person.

All this makes self-reflection rather difficult. I want to see clearly the mistakes I made, to know how to avoid a repeat future, but I'm having a hard time pinpointing it. If I had to do it all again, I think I would probably do everything exactly the same way, because my feelings were always genuine and I think my actions always honest. So what now? What do I take away from this?

And how many times to I go through this same line of thinking, to come again to an answerless dispersion of thoughts. With Passover coming, I feel desperate to see my sins clearly, to make things right somehow. What is the conclusion of the matter?

How do you atone for something you don't regret? Do you? And am I wrong to have no regrets? I loved with all my heart, I learned with all my heart, and I made my choices with all my heart. But at the end of it all, there is hurt, there are scars, there is the need for healing. Logically, my mind tells me that pain is the evidence of something done wrong. And herein lies my dilemna-my need to discover what my fatal mistake must have been. Because my internal logic doesn't just believe that pain is the evidence of something done wrong, but something *I* did wrong.

Ah, vanity. I'm grasping at the wind.