Crossing

This is a story of the relentless, internal struggle between reason and intuition when faced with a decision. 

I am the battlefield. The crossroads where the war rages on about which path to take. Team one spreads out maps, pointing fingers, holding their heads in disbelief. Team two, to the rhythm of a melancholic ballad, passionately proclaims the power of premonitions, dreams, and intuition.

And me? I cling to the earth, flattened, trampled, hoping that the decision will make itself. Perhaps it’s not worth interfering when the argument is so fierce?

But there she sits - the decision - unfazed in her makeshift throne. She inspects her nails, toys with a lock of hair, patiently waiting. For her, any choice is good, as long as we move forward. She doesn’t care about the arguments, the maps, or the gut feelings.

And so, we begin to move slowly - me, my reason, my heart, and the decision. Stopping again and again at every new fork in the road.