A Fork.
Long bent spindrils that stab at an elusive destination. I will trust Frost on this one! And yet, a few steps down the less traveled road, a look back is paralyzing. A loud voice in my head, full of doubt says crisply:
"It's not too late to go the other way."
It's as if just three steps in there is a veil that hit me so hard I lost my breath. Standing at the threshold of what could have been and what I have chosen is so intoxicatingly confusing. The moment of clarity that led me in this direction has suddenly vanished. My mind has tricked me into thinking there are more options than there are, and suddenly the loss of options seems scary and limiting rather than liberating and clarifying like it did mere seconds ago.
There is no one on this road. I feel lonely. Suddenly I feel terribly vulnerable.
If I could just glimpse what could have been, maybe I will remember why I am here.
I don't want to navigate this winding shady path alone, but as some recognition and resignation sneak back into my senses, I know I can't go back. As my mind slowly lowers a more permanent barrier than a veil between me and my what-ifs, I window shop my old life one last time. Nose pressed against the glass at first, analyzing every detail. Slowly I step back, taking in the big picture. Perspective helps me decide to turn around and pursue the path I chose. I turned around swiftly, but tearing my eyes from the neat little display felt harder to do than breaking a chemical bond.
A final overwhelming urge to take one last look stole over me. I tried to indulge by looking beside me, and there I saw my dark companion. With mirth I acknowledge that I will not be so alone. At least my shadow still trusts me enough to follow me.
I am sorry shadow, I don't know how many more rocks or bumps I will have to drag you through. But as long as you are still here, I know I'll be alright. We'll both be alright. I think.
"It's not too late to go the other way."
It's as if just three steps in there is a veil that hit me so hard I lost my breath. Standing at the threshold of what could have been and what I have chosen is so intoxicatingly confusing. The moment of clarity that led me in this direction has suddenly vanished. My mind has tricked me into thinking there are more options than there are, and suddenly the loss of options seems scary and limiting rather than liberating and clarifying like it did mere seconds ago.
There is no one on this road. I feel lonely. Suddenly I feel terribly vulnerable.
Can one asphyxiate from loneliness?
If I could just glimpse what could have been, maybe I will remember why I am here.
But there are not two of me, and I can't know what will be.
I don't want to navigate this winding shady path alone, but as some recognition and resignation sneak back into my senses, I know I can't go back. As my mind slowly lowers a more permanent barrier than a veil between me and my what-ifs, I window shop my old life one last time. Nose pressed against the glass at first, analyzing every detail. Slowly I step back, taking in the big picture. Perspective helps me decide to turn around and pursue the path I chose. I turned around swiftly, but tearing my eyes from the neat little display felt harder to do than breaking a chemical bond.
A final overwhelming urge to take one last look stole over me. I tried to indulge by looking beside me, and there I saw my dark companion. With mirth I acknowledge that I will not be so alone. At least my shadow still trusts me enough to follow me.
I am sorry shadow, I don't know how many more rocks or bumps I will have to drag you through. But as long as you are still here, I know I'll be alright. We'll both be alright. I think.
