I'm not sorry I met you; I'm not sorry it's over; I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I just saw Evita in London. Allow me to give you a brief selection:
"I don't expect my love affairs to last for long--
Never fooled myself that my dreams would come true.
Being used to trouble, I anticipate it
But all the same I hate it. Wouldn't you?
Time and time again I said that I don't care...
That I'm immune to gloom, that I'm hard through and through.
But every time it matters all my words desert me
So anyone can hurt me, and they do.
Call in three months time and I'll be fine, I know.
Well, maybe not that fine, but I'll survive anyhow.
I won't recall the names and places of each sad occasion,
But that's no consolation here and now.
So what happens now? Where am I going to?"

I've never been so sad that I've had four nosebleeds in a day. This is a first.