The Wayfaring Vagrant and his Distant Love

Things have changed. I can’t tell you how, but something is different between us. It’s not the same anymore.

You were my future. I left my past for you, but you didn’t welcome me. I was stuck in limbo – striving to be with you and not wanting to be where I came from – I was stuck in the present.

You were my shining light, my perfect, my dream; I was going to be made complete with you. I was your fulfillment, your guardian, your guide. You were the lighthouse and I was the sea captain. I was the vagabond and you the light in the window guiding me home.

But here I am, stalled in the path, bobbing in the water; something has changed.

Future, it was me.

The path set before me is not quite as short as I thought. Or as quite as specific. I realize the forest is not as foreboding as before. The trees are not things to be avoided. I can leave the path and explore. Make my own trails. The sheltered coves and harbors are just starting places. The oceans of possibilities have opened up before me like a map, with shoreline to fill in.

Future, I’m not married to you. I’ve said no vows. I am not bound to you. You are not the only one out there. My destiny is not written in stone, but is a path through a wood.

And you’re not the path I’m taking.

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