I am stuck on a road with many different paths forked in front of me. Some bear signs; blinking neon letters, dreary old-fashioned fonts, and others just dirt roads, stretching a million miles out.
It’s not a rare sight to see. For years I’ve wandered through the same roads aimlessly only to find many others appearing and disappearing as I tread along. Never once did I stop to think. It was as if my thoughts were completely separated from my continuously moving body. Is this why I feel like I’m on autopilot most of my life?
I am where I am now not because of me. I make aimless decisions because every path that I take feels familiar, safe, comforting. Too much comfort makes your mind dull. That’s why I feel so lost. Unknowingly I’ve trudged down a path so far away from where I’d wanted to go, I’ve lost myself.
But I can’t stop now, not when I’ve walked so far down. I can’t afford to turn back so I can find some remnant of who I was. Or maybe I just have a flair for drama. Maybe I like to blame my adversity on other people’s choices for me, disregarding my own fault for – dare I say – blindly following said choices.
The lingering sting of regret, ironically, comforts me. I am in my safe haven. But for how long?
I am aimless and without a purpose. I am uncertain with unwavering doubts. I am stuck in front of a road with many different paths and I’ve never been more afraid.