Perhaps, the vain measure of life is the amount of adventure you have – the heart-stopping moments when excitement and adrenaline courses through your eagerly anticipating veins; the moments of spontaneous romance, when the world stops for only your ever-longing hearts; the breathtaking views from a mountaintop, when you look down upon nature and humanity in all its majesty and fragility.

Some say it is the love you give; some believe in taking as much love as they can get. Yet others believe that none of it matters, as long as you’re happy – whatever happy is, and whatever floats your boat.

Perhaps, for all the love that we give and the adventure we live, it might be the case that none of it truly mattered. Our lives are lined with positive bias – we do good, and therefore we expect good things to happen to us – and we do not realize that even as we push ourselves to make the world a better place for ourselves and the people around us, that the Universe owes us nary a whisker of positivity.

And now the path has split, and both roads extend long beyond the horizon. The choice had already been made years ago, as I kneel – eyes closed – before the path I have chosen. The Universe does not owe me a thing. This path may be for the worst. But with courage I accept. With courage, I will tread the path.

I will believe. I will believe that as time goes on, I will keep growing. I will become the version of me that the world needs, and the version of me that will be a light to many.

But oh lord, do I hate goodbyes.