our choices

An End

Everyone was invested in their own sweet little bubble of reality and she was no different .There was an old couple bantering wittingly ,a telltale sign of their years of love and hardship together finally getting time to see this vast world with lots to experience and little to no time left in their treasury ,there was also a mother trying endlessly to convince her little hell hound of mischief to not wander off on his conquest to save the world and sit beside her quietly ,the airport was bustling with such mundane activities and she would have noticed it all if not for that diary and pen in her hand which was surprising since she was never a good writer,she was too invested in her writing that she became oblivious to the futures she would have wondered about well she wasn't wrong either ,what's the point in subjecting herself to the torture of possibilities if it will only remind her of the loss ,of how broken she is .Although she was waiting for her flight she wasn't so confident in the decision she was about to make after-all it's not everyday you decide to believe a complete stranger you know next to nothing about except his name but she believed she didn't have a choice but she had. when the flight was announced her decision was made for her ,she quietly stood up to board that plane and escape while leaving that diary there ,she had written a beautiful poem

Once I embarked on a journey

Supposedly to find myself

And there you were

In that desolate place

With a pen and diary in your hand

Sitting under that tree ,all alone

My curiosity led me to you

I thought you were different

Not broken and lost like me

And boy had I ever been more wrong

You were full of sweet lies

And I was hooked like an addict

Dreaming of your warmth and sweetness

I could see your love for me

The way you could sense mine

It was apparent in the way you smiled

In the way your eyes often held mine

But there was a chasm separating us

While I wished to just embrace you and confess to my beautiful sin

All along I was afraid, afraid to know

Were you real or just my imagination

After-all I had often been accused of being delusional

In my moment of hesitation, you left

You left for your own adventure

And I was left to wonder forever

With a diary and a pen in my hand

Was that all really just my imagination?