Take a chance?

Regrets are creeping up on me, but not the one's you'd think. Everyone deserves one of these, but I don't want one right now. I don't usually go out on limbs, but I don't usually do anything. I definitely don't usually do this. Is it my brain? My hormones, neurons, lying to me? I suddenly care so much as to whether or not you're thinking of me, and mere months ago we were strangers in the same town. And I just don't feel bad about this, and I don't want to.