My thoughts race around corners, taking both paths at once, splitting again, ever diverging.

I remember R asking me "If he said he wanted you, would you go?" and my answer being "My bags would be packed before I was off the phone."

Truth.

So what holds me back now? Am I less sure? Is it the hurts that came since then? Is it his availability? Am I more in love with being unrequited than with reality? Or is it simply the matter of distance, that this couldn't be more upheaval without a change of language.

Fear.

When did I become so afraid? It's always been there but now it holds the crown and scepter.

And what I come back to again and again is that of course this all comes when I'd finally learned to be happy. Just as I find joy and contentment and take control... this is when the changes finally come and sit on the horizon like warships.

I don't know which side to root for.