Undone

I see the words written on the small piece of paper in a jacket pocket. I have the speeches saved for dinner laid out in my head. I even have an Avett Brothers song I want to learn on guitar to sing. I see it will make everyone there cry because they see the truth behind the lyrics and that, for some reason, makes me excited. The Ballad of Love and Hate.

I see the backless dress and the hair pulled tightly into a bun. I know when the older folks get tired the dance floor will still be alive. The fresh air and uncorked bottles giving energy as the stars get higher in the sky. I see it in slow motion; us bouncing up and down to the beat of the kick drum and yell-singing songs that came out before we were born.

I see it all until someone snaps their fingers in front of my face. I see a computer screen next to a sink of dishes. I see a bed that is unslept in on the right side. I see the photos on the wall of 1000 miles traveled and countless adventures had all with different people — save one.

I see the choices and the fear. I see the joy and the hardship. I see a hundred forking roads and all of them waiting to be traversed — and there in the middle is a straight path with a cleared trail that has been inviting for years. Yet I avoid it. I don’t know why. I go on the other hundred forks hoping they will somehow help me learn why I am afraid to take the most obvious trail God has ever put in front of man. Yet still I wander.