The truth is, this wasn't it.
Not like this.
Not so crooked,
not with this crosswind
that ruffles my hair to the core.
I had another idea,
another way to get there.
A straight line,
clean,
almost shining,
as if the world knew how to do favors
just because you want them.
But no.
The curve came.
The unexplained stumble.
The sign I didn't understand
or that wasn't there.
It doesn't matter.
The truth is that now I'm here,
at a strange crossroads,
with a map without a compass
that's no longer fully useful.
And then I think,
Is it worth continuing?
Give this another shape?
Find another way to get
to what I don't have yet
but still want?
I don't know.
But there's something in me
that doesn't give up easily,
obviously not out of pride,
it's because I've already come this far.
I still have ground left.
And desire.
That desire screams at me
to insist.
I change my pace.
I fold the paper.
I erase one part,
I invent another.
I improvise.
I breathe.
I laugh a little,
even if it's not funny.
And I continue.
Not as I imagined,
but I continue.