I ever told somebody before that one very amazing realisation I came to know one day while I was in a car on the expressway is the fact that every single thing around us is a decision made by somebody out there.
The position of every single item on your work desk.
The phone case.
The color of the laptop.
The height of placement of the light and switches.
The thickness of the white lines on roads.
The distance between lamp posts on expressway.
The acronym used for our expressway.
The sentence displayed on road signs and labels.
The choice of underwear and shirt/dress you have on you right now.
The subway club you ate with no olives and honey mustard dressing.
Every single piece of furniture, every single tile, every single light, to the shampoo and razor you use.
The text you sent.
The words you used.
The person next to you.
Even the things that no longer exist.
The person who is no longer next to you.
Our very existence.
But one thing remains a mystery: Falling in love.
We all fall in love and it is, technically, not possible to choose to fall. Yes, we can choose to grow the love and nurture it so that it lasts, but falling is not a choice. If falling can be controlled, then there should be no accidents in life anymore.
Have you ever regretted the decisions in your life, made or not made by you, like me? Does the presence or absence of something or somebody burn a hole in your heart and empty you out and cast that hollowness in you that no matter what you do, it never seems to be filled? Or that nothing seems right?
I wish I could turn back time.
Even if this is a silly thought and that it is useless to want.
Still, I really do.