Paths Together and Apart

(Image/Flickr)

I feel guilty

because I know I’m moving forward,

and it’s not that I’m leaving people behind me,

it’s that we’re taking different paths.

And maybe I didn’t always respond well

to these forks in the road.

I know I’ve forced some people off of my path,

and reached my arm out to others to pull them aboard.

I’ve yelled down some paths, screamed,

my voice trailing behind the person walking away,

echoing off tree trunks we once carved our memories into,

but knowing I am no longer to travel beside them.

And that’s the guilt.

Knowing that despite miles and miles on the same path,

gripping hands,

tripping over rocks and potholes together,

you find yourself divided at the fork.

And the miles together end.