That feeling. That feeling that make you go, “what if?”. That has got to be one of the worst feelings ever, right?

I’m not one to doubt myself, not often anyway. With every decision I make, there’s always a stream of thought behind it, constantly weighing pros and cons. Every one. For as long as I can remember. Then came this decision, one that I made with a whole river and sea of thought, constantly gushing with currents moving in all directions, if that’s even possible. But after all the swimming and pushing through that current, I find myself in a different kind of water body, the kind filled with the question “what if?”. Sadly, this time it isn’t a river, but a swamp. A swamp of what-ifs that won’t let me go nowhere, that sinks every time I try to move. “What if?”

Then how do I get out of this? Do I look for a branch of answer to get me out of this quicksand of a question? I can’t see one, or maybe not yet. Maybe, just maybe, I need to wait for that branch to grow first, let it unfold, until it’s within my reach. Just maybe, only then can I reach it and finally getting out of this swamp, getting an answer to my question. If that’s how I get out of it, I have another question. How long must I wait?

How long indeed.

I imagine a time when the clocks have served their tick-tocks, when that branch is finally long enough for me to reach, when I have finally climbed and hopped on the tree. What will I see? Is there a panoramic view of the sun rising through the horizon? or maybe a long, dim, winding road? Or maybe another swamp? What?

Let us wait.

I’ll try not to drown.