Decision-making, the harbinger of my own undoing.
The relentless fear of doors closing indefinitely, the haunting specter that lurks within the corridors of the human psyche. It is the panic that arises from the idea that once a choice is made, you cannot undo it.
There is a contradiction between the heart’s longing for stability and the comfort of a chosen route, with the paralyzing dread of closing doors. It is a dance between desire and fear, where the tight-rope holding you up is strung with with fragile threads of “just in case.”
Lately, I have discovered a subtle pattern – a subconscious inclination to safeguard the open-ended nature of my options. This tendency materializes as an unspoken reluctance to fully invest and commit to something, leaving me clinging onto backup plans. It manifests as an inability to settle, a ceaseless quest for fresh and new horizons.
However, in the pursuit of broadening my experiences in this manner, comes with its fair share of consequences:
Dreams and expectations are left unfulfilled, relationships sit in a state of perpetual flux. I find that my fear of closing doors, however well-intentioned, takes precedence over the well-being of those who journey alongside. I jokingly say I am consistently inconsistent to others.
I think writing about this way of living showcases a side of the intricate human struggle, where the innate desire for freedom entwines with the apprehension of decisiveness. It’s interesting, to say the least. I love the way I am guided through life with the desire to experience it to the fullest. I believe there is so much beauty in this short existence… but I must remember to stay mindful that this way of living also holds the potential for missed opportunities (ironically – since I am trying to experience everything always) and fractured connections in its wake.
As my roomate would say, my life is a “constant cycle of side quests, to the point where the main quest is often a lost concept to me.”
silly silly
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