I’ve been stuck in my head all day (like I’m not all the time), scribbling these thoughts down because they won’t leave me alone. It’s funny how one little thing can flip everything upside down, isn’t it? Like a butterfly flapping its wings. next thing you know, there’s a storm halfway across the world. Makes me wonder about all the tiny choices I’ve made, the ones I didn’t even think twice about at the time. What if just one of them had gone differently? Where would I be?
Like that night when I got home at midnight. I was dead tired, but Something wouldn’t let me sleep, like I was front-row for the premiere of Fuck-Up Season. If I’d just crashed instead, would it still have been the same mess?
And what if I’d asked for help back when I needed it?
Me, stubborn? Never.
Okay, always.
I’d probably have ignored the advice anyway.
‘Thanks, but I’ve got this,’ I’d say, while drowning in my own chaos.
I shoved everyone away. friends, family, anyone who dared get close. What if I’d held on? Would I feel less alone? Or would I just have more people to bore with my midnight shit? Lucky them.
I can’t stop thinking about the walls I’ve built. Guilt, fear, regret. I stacked them up, brick by brick, until I couldn’t see out anymore. What if I’d stopped, even just for a day? Could I have escaped this self-made jail? Or would I just have added another brick and called it ‘character’?
At times, my body’s been yelling at me: ‘I can’t take this, you idiot!’
And I’ve been like, ‘Nah, I’m good.’
Goddammit Aria. Goddammit.
And 12 a.m. why’s it always 12? If I’d broken that habit, stopped letting the clock dictate my nights, would things look different? Or would I still be sitting here, asking the same stupid questions?
I don’t know. Maybe none of it would’ve mattered. Maybe I’d still be right here, just with a different pile of regrets to sift through. Or maybe everything would’ve changed. one tiny shift, and I’d be someone else entirely. That’s the thing with the butterfly effect. you can’t ever tell what would’ve tipped the scales. You just sit there, wondering.
Guess this is where I’m at now. Me, my pen, and a head full of stupid what-ifs.