I know what it is like,
to be in love with possibilities.

I have toyed with ideas.
I have considered illusions.
I have flirted with alternatives.
I have romanced metaphors.
I have teased possibilities.

It is something I am so accustomed to.

But what is it like to be saddened,
by the loss of a possibility?
Or to feel hurt when we are denied one,
of the many?

I think...
clinging to possibilities,
is to be afraid,
afraid of being abandoned,
by chance, by people, by time.

Ironic is it not,
should one be finally abandoned
by choices,
because one did not want to make
a choice?