choices

CHOICE

It’s probably one of the most overused words in the English dictionary. Often we don’t even know the gravity of the word when we make them. We hurry with our lives making one choice after another unaware of many who cannot exercise them or are too afraid to while the other half overuse and manipulate them without fear or caution because they can and we’re too oblivious or apathetic to notice.

Personally choices scare me, not that ‘what should I order’ or ‘is this pink enough’ kind but the ‘do I know where my life is going’ kind. That fear that wakes you up at 3 AM and leaves you sleepless until the light seeps through your shades. I lay there, staring at the ceiling asking myself if all the choices I made up to this point are those that I can live with, much more be happy with. I play different scenarios in my head. What if I went to a different uni? What if I majored in something else? What if I never met my best friends? What if I followed my heart more times that I followed my logic? Where would I be? Would I happier?

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Robert Frost wrote, “Two roads diverge in a yellow road. I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference.” Doesn’t it get lonely though? Looking at the path few took, seeing only your track marks. Knowing full well that each time you look back or to your side, you won’t see anyone. You took the road less traveled by.

You know in your heart you SHOULD be happy because you made the good choice but there are days and more nights when you think there was a BETTER choice. Maybe you didn’t have to give up so much to get to where you are or where you wanna be.

I guess we all doubt our choices sometimes. It doesn’t matter if you’re a 5 year old deliberating on another cookie before dinner or a dad setting aside money for his daughter’s college fund instead of spending in on booze in the pub with his work friends. There are days when you’ll wallow in the ‘what ifs’. There’s no shame in that. Find comfort in the fact that it’s human nature to wonder especially when we’re given reasons to.

I’ve made a lot of screwed up decisions in my life and I’m sure I’ll make a few more. To be honest, there are times when I want a do over, a reboot, another shot at the opportunities I missed or trade for those I took but then I look at those people I’ve met, things I accomplished and who I’ve become, I feel a bit better. That’s not to say my demons are always silent, they still claw at me some days and make me feel like an utter failure.

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I guess I want tell you that if you ever feel stupid or annoyed or defeated about the bad choices you’ve made, don’t beat yourself up further. You’re allowed to make them and you can feel bad for them. You can hang around under a dark cloud for a bit and think about why it didn’t work out. You don’t have to move on in an instant as people expect you too. YOU CAN FEEL, YOU’RE ALLOWED THAT MUCH.

Of the hundreds of choices we make in a day, at least one is bound to be wrong. That’s okay. Just remind yourself that there’s always a takeaway in every choice, bad or good. Savor the good and learn from the bad and hope that you’ll make not just better choices but CHOICES THAT ARE BETTER FOR YOU.

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unmailed letter

I read somewhere, sometime ago that bottled emotions especially for other people are best written then kept. That way you get to rid yourself of all the tension; you’re able to express what you truly feel without the possibility of hurting someone else. So I did that.

 I guess that may be the reason why I wanna come clean, to dispense myself of this secret. It’s just too heavy to carry around and you know I wanna go places.

Writing down each word is therapy in itself. It almost feels like I’m talking to him without feeling the compulsion to constantly reword everything, so it doesn’t offend him, so it fits his standards, so it lives up to mine. I could just finally say it and not be sorry I did.

I could sit here all day long and come up with the perfect excuse, the most reasonable one, why I never said anything and decided everyday to stay mum but the truth is I was scared. And you know me, I am seldom scared.

After every word has gone and I have exhausted all I wanted to say, a part of me feels guilty that he will never get to read it. It’s like when a guy likes a girl so much but has decided to be a secret admirer, leaving roses on her doorstep and poetry in her locker. Although he’s so scared for fear of rejection, a part him just wants to come clean and tell her in person because there’s still no substitute for an actual real life conversation with her- not even his imagined romantic day with her. Well, I feel that way. Because more than the frustration I wrote are truths that a part of me believes he deserves to know.

I’m not sure if were meant to be friends for the rest of our lives. I’m not even sure if we’d have each other’s number in 5 years but I’d like this letter to remind you (and in a strange telepathic way remind me) that while I pen these words, you mean so much to me. You’ve made a big impact on my life and I will forever admire the way you chose to live your life- uncompromising and full of integrity.

Even as I type this entry out I still haven’t decided whether I should mail him the letter or not. If I don’t mail it, I still have successfully accomplished my mission to dispense myself of all that I have to say to him without having to feel embarrassed about whatever else I wrote. If I do, we might need to talk about and right now I’m sure if that’s a good thing or not.

I guess maybe I was hoping by the end of this entry I’d finally know what to do but still, nothing.