How did I get to this point? Torn between two worlds. Both are as promising as frightening. Pulling in me in opposite directions. Like an internal tug-of-war. I can’t seem to make up my mind, which way to go. Both come with wins and losses. All I want is the best outcome. If I chose path A, I will have to sacrifice everything I’ve known for a potential more vivid future. If it’s all a mirage, I’ll lose everything in pursuit of a pipe dream. However, if I cling to what I known on path B I’ll miss out on an opportunity that might only come around once in a lifetime. However, things are starting to pan out, but still aren’t where I want them yet. This monotony with the same-old-same old routine is tiresome. Something’s got to give? Yet I’m fearful of acting rashly. Familiarity brings comfort with certainty. Yet my longing for change grows by the day and I’ve outgrown this waiting period where I stand at this mental crossroads indecisive.
Squinting between the sun and horizon, a tumble weed scurries past my blistered feet. My throat aches from dehydration as I swallow the salty taste of the blood from my busted lip. Ever since I stepped foot in this godforsaken, wasteland, I’ve lost track of the days, alone so long that my tears have dried against my blackened skin. It’s a miracle I haven’t gone blind from wandering through the midday sun like a car with a broken GPS, past the dunes of sand and sparse wild flowers that give color to the homogenous setting. Although most of my hope is all but gone, there’s still a part of me that believes there’s an oasis ahead. Perhaps, my days as a restless nomad are almost over, and I’ll find a place to rest. A place I can call home.