The numbing liquid laps at my toes hesitantly. Uncertainty flavors the water and fear forbids me to drink. A childish phobia of gripping tides holds me in place. The path gazing at my back is eternally set in stone and no longer heeds my call. Strong arms prevent my desire to pivot and sprint away to the past. I am afraid. There is beauty ahead. There is a chance to drown in sorrow. I try to listen to the silent roar of life still incoherent to my ears. There are many trajectories to wander, but a universal direction forward. What are you doing?