The Long Road

Painful recollections of the past haunt me as I travel along my path of seemingly endless forks.

No way I turn is wrong, and yet, I feel no closer today to my objective than I did months ago.

When I began this journey I was accompanied by many.

Some told me they would solemnly stick by my side until the end.

Those are the ones who fell off and dissipated fastest.

There were those who said they would try and help along the way, they would scout up ahead and we would help each other along.

Those are the ones who never came back.

There were those who smiled in my face, took my hand, and stabbed me in the back.

At least I knew their face, to know what a true enemy looked like.

There were some occasions where they turned out more friend than those who consorted behind my back.


I push on. Alone. Battle-tested. Beaten and bruised. Exhausted.

But I still move on.

I see the Others in groups, fighting, and feinding and living and dying.

‘You Only Live Once’, a sign read down one path.

On its back it read ‘You’ll Always Die Alone’.

It took years to figure out the meaning, the true meaning, and as morbid and depressing as it seems, the sign is right. We can live together forever, but when it’s my time. It is MY time. Never OUR time…


I take a step not for anyone else anymore. Just for me.

When I finally climb and reach the pinnacle I don’t know what I will see. Will I see those who I cared for before I left on my journey? Will I see my enemies and competitors still fighting to reach where I am? Will I see God?

I don’t know.


This doesn’t burden me.

My heart beats not for life anymore it seems; it just wants for me to make it to my final destination.

My breath expels from my lungs, just so I can taste the success I have tried so long to achieve.

My eyes still take in light, so I can burn the image of true victory deeply into my brain.


As a youth, it dawned on me that I would one day have to go on, alone, and find my own way through this life. I feared not knowing what was going to happen with each passing day. I feared not having anyone around to push me to keep going. I feared not having a loved one to see me through it all

As an older man I see that those aren’t things to be afraid of.

I’ve found myself being fearless, even in the face of a nemesis like Death.

And that is something to truly be afraid of.


I push on. I know my path will take me to my promised land soon enough.

Until my legs fail, my body breaks, my arms immobilize and I stop breathing, I will continue to travel.

In search, of my meaning.