Like trains on parallel tracks.
It seems to me that life goes on. Pick a place, and time will continue.
The faces change. But the lives are very similar.
“There are no wrong choices,” you said.
But you can’t be in two places at once, and neither can you split your time.
I thought there may be drastic changes. And choices.
There aren’t. We’re doing the same things. Different orders, different places.
Versions of each other. Here, there.
Not any easier.
Not any different.
This is not new.
And when it’s done, you wonder why you agonized over it at all.
“The train is leaving, with or without you.”
Stopping a moving train with a song. Making ripples in an ocean with a pebble.
Is it not humbling, the triviality of our presence?
This is man’s all.
Yet, if there was a face that smiled and was happy that you are here and not there (a face that will also be here (or there), to know your time today made a difference) would that not tip the scale?
For the seconds to count.
For some sort of an anchor.