I’ve always thought it unfair the number of big decisions people our age have to make. Isn’t there a place, say five years from now, where we just live the lives we’ve been deciding about for the past decade? Because it really is exhausting—all this choosing things right now that will ultimately determine whether we end up in Michigan or Mongolia; in passages of hounding regret or blissfully happy.
Who to marry. What to study. Where to live. Where to work. How to live. Because we have to decide all of that right this minute, don’t we?
The particular choice at hand feels like roads diverging, which is hard enough. But it’s complicated because we’re two travelers who decided to always walk together, and after a lot of personal and careful consideration on this matter, we didn’t chose the same path. Levi wants to go left, I want to go right.