The world around us is consistently changing. It experiences death but then creates life in a matter of seconds. There is constant growth and discovery and the same things never happen twice. Why, then, does it amaze me every time my own life changes? It could be because many times I don’t control the change. Yet I have come to see that the greatest amazement comes from the results of my own decisions:
Friends move away, lovers they come and go, family members pass, and we go on. But the minute we decide something that ends in a way we didn’t expect, all is lost. The familiarity we had is no longer- our world slowly begins to crumble and then it all collapses. There is still hope, somewhere, but we can’t find it. There is air to be breathed, places to be discovered and people to meet, yet we are incapable of seeing and feeling anything outside the physical pain this one, single decision has caused…
So what do I do? Do I stop making decisions and hope the world can make them for me? Do I shut myself out completely and close off to everyone and everything that makes this world good? Maybe I continue with the world, but I become so incredibly cynical towards anything related to this decision that maybe I am unbearable to be around.
I cry. I scream, I yell, I throw something (preferably not at someone). I talk to myself sometimes because I often think “no one understands me.” I listen to sad songs so that I can cry some more, and all the dramas. I fall to my knees and pray with all my might. And then, I pick myself up. I wonder around aimlessly for a while, but I figure it out. Maybe I’ll write about it, or paint, sing, dance, yodel, ANYTHING…
I embrace the next opportunity I have to make a decision because not everyone in this world has the luxury of options. I chose, whatever it is my heart tells me to. And when I pick the wrong one… AGAIN… I start from the top.