The in-between

I like being stuck in limbo. It’s what I’m used to. Always having to choose one life or another. It’s tiring living multiple lives. It’s tiring living my own life. When I’m on the road on my lonesome, my mind and sense of freedom expands. I become nothingness and everything all at once. I can miss my exit and keep driving. I can leave and never come back. Forget everything behind me.

But I can’t. I pass by each town and city where my friends from both my past, present, and future reside. Each are little worlds. I always wonder how my friends are doing. Usually I feel like it is not my place to be a part of their life. I feel like an outside observer. I appreciate the friends that let me be a more integral part of their lives. I’m grateful of them.

I wonder, if I had stayed in one city or another just a little longer or a little shorter, how much different would things be? I try not to think of these things and shake my head to return to nothingness. 

I can’t decide my destination because I’m tired of choosing. I wish to just exist. I have goals and ambitions but I accept failure if it happens. To be at peace is what I crave.