Today is a new day and the past is forgotten. The past is never forgotten no matter how hard I try. When is it ever the time to start all over again? Is it ever too late to start with living? Does the time come when we must live with our past choices for the rest of our lives and simply make the best of our days? There are some good reasons to continue with the life I have once chosen, even if I feel estranged to it today; responsibility, loyalty, patience. And there are other reasons like fear, habit and insecurity that stand in the way of making new choices. Perhaps it is a combination of all of those reasons.
Paradoxically, the more I surrendered to apathy and regret the more restless I became, envisioning a life where freedom, respect and individuality are not a right that have to be fought for every single day. Eventually, the fear of staying in a life that is merely tolerated, mostly for pragmatic reasons, became much larger than the insecurities of an unknown future.
So insignificant these few days and years on this planet; we call it time, we call it life, we call it existence. It can be meaningless and it can be all we have to create something worthwhile. Was it that she was in search for? Something worth living for, dying for, suffering for? I wonder how far she got. Maybe the sole act of leaving was all she needed to do to get there.