The Hallway

I don't know what the future will bring.

And it used to be that it didn't matter to me- I'd get through it easily.

And I know I'll get through it. Somehow. But now it scares me. Frightens me. Terrifies me.

I don't want to go into co-op tomorrow. Or the next two days. I want to stay home, even if I have to be awake, and bury my head deep under pillows. Ignoring that a decision has or will be made, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

It's a dark hallway I'm in. Dark doorways on either side stretching into more darkness. Emergency lights are all that illuminate, and a far-off eerie light at the end. It's more comfortable to go back, where I know there's a nice, bright waiting room with comfty chairs and good food somewhere behind me. Forward there's only a faint promise of more-to-come. What the more-to-come is, who knows?

I used to be unafraid of this type of thing. I'd go barging forward, convinced I can't go back and knowing that somewhere there's got to be a chair of some sort. Now, I don't know where that me went. Or has she gone ahead to wait for me? Did she grow impatient with my slowness of the last few months? Is that why she left me?

Should I go find her? I guess I should. I hate and love how she's forcing me to go forward. I know she cares, but I wish she'd stop being so stubborn and let me go back- I want a certainty of couches, not an eerie light that might lead to nowhere.