You're right.

About what we should or shouldn't have done. You're right.

Now we lay here, thinking about how we got here, how we got near.  And to what end. What we lost and what we could have gained.

Have we been trying too hard? How do we know when everything(/one) tells us that we're supposed to try hard? How do we know when it's too much?

How do we take the step forward knowing that we're on the wrong road in the first place?

Why do these things happen during the summer? When the heat stings and the hurt burns. 

It pains me to think that no matter hard we try, none of us will deserve this. Not because it's not good enough but because it's just different. We were always meant for different things. For the beautiful, the dazzling, and the romantic. Yet we're here, dining on mediocrity for sustenance, and pathetically doing it separately.

So maybe there is something about this heat and the tiredness of our bodies. Something about longing for wide, open spaces, and looking ahead at a boundless horizon, and feeling a million infinities.