There are so many times I think about a decision I‘ve made and wonder, “What if I had done it differently? Who would I be? What would my life be like? What if?”

I look at my hands. These are the consequences of my actions, and I feel so alone.

What do I do now? There was always a fear, always a concern, always a reason to hoard weapons and food, always a quest or a trial. Now, nothing. Just the wind sweeping in over our battlefield. And empty battlefield filled only with echoes of things lost and learned. Friends. Lessons. Soon it will be a memory. I feel like I lover has died.

Rather a drink be my master than a man. These chains taste sweet.

How odd to be made of flesh, balanced on bone, and filled with the soul you‘ve never met.

Fear of being unequal to the task before me.

We understand how dangerous a mask can be. We all become what we pretend to be.