Choices. Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right ones, and other times, I wonder if I ignored what's better for me. It leaves me wondering about what could have been, so I use my imagination and picture the other routes that were possible.
Whenever I come to the crossroads, I choose which way I should travel with my eyes closed. When I've passed the other paths, I look back, and faintly see the possibilities of those future acting out in front of my eyes. Then I shrug-- I guess I will never know how the other roads will end. Perhaps someday, I'll experience the little things that happen along the other routes without knowing it. Some things though, stay the same no matter which way I go.
What if I had written this last night and went to bed late? Would I have finished preparing my bento, and managed to write a little post with the fifteen minutes left before I leave for school? No. I wouldn't have. That, I know, because it has happened way too many times before.
Choices. I hate how my heart throbs and make them for me.
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