How did I end up here? And where did you go?
Things were good there for a while. Just us, the open road, and the deep blue sky overhead. We had such a clear sense of purpose. I felt like I was going somewhere; my movements had spirit, fire. The way you looked at me, like I was your fearless one. I think we knew I wasn't the one to lead, but I wanted to be, very much.
So when you weren't looking, I grabbed the map and struck off on my own. Those shortcuts you took gave me an idea. If I could get there first, I could show you the way with confidence! It would be a gift, like flowers, or chocolates maybe! And I thought I could see it too, just over the horizon: our goal.
But when I got there, it wasn't it. I hadn't found what we had been looking for, at all. Somewhere I had turned wrong. Even worse, when I turned around to say I'm sorry, you were nowhere to be seen. Frantically, I looked for you, so I could find you again, but you were gone.
Now, I'm just scared. I've been wandering all over, drifting aimlessly. Floundering in liquid decisions, sinking in changing values, drifting past broken, useless signposts. What if I can't find you again? What if we were wrong, and there is no destination? Nah.
I've realized that I can't do it on my own, that I need help. I just need somewhere to ask for directions. I just need to swallow my pride and ask.
It used to be so easy. How did I end up here?