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A crossroads

I find myself at a crossroads.

Doesn’t every road bend every which way, with a decision to be made? And what if I can’t decide, at the crossroads, which way to take?

It seems silly that every day I make a choice that could alter the course of my life. And if I don’t decide, that is also a choice in itself.

I’m constrained by my inability to run away from choosing. My belief in my own freedom suddenly shakes and vanishes. And to me there’s no worse feeling than that of no freedom of choice.

The crossroads imposes itself on me, every day: what to eat, what to watch. Should I or shouldn’t I tell my coworker that he is making me angry every time he tells me to do something for him?

And yet despite feeling overwhelmed, I choose. Thinking back on the decisions I have made, I wouldn’t have liked anyone but myself to have decided for me.

This unstable temperament of mine, it’ll come back to me - in fact, it does every day. Deciding what to say while I’m angry, and then changing the words when I’ve calmed down. Constantly going back and forth between emotions that guide my words and my actions.

I don’t like crossroads, but I can’t avoid them. I can’t always like everything or avoid the things I don’t like, so I accept my limitations.

As I write about crossroads, I’m also choosing what to say and not to say.

Damn! How hard it is to run away from choice.

Clara Andrade

Copyright: text Clara Andrade; photos Wix.



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