Webbed feet

Life seems to be full of split-second choices that end up being those forks in the road. The ones that look like Ys. Tree branches. Tree roots. A duck's webbed feet. A cell division diagram. Probability charts. Split ends. 

As much as I know if I had made different decisions I might be a different person now, doing different things, I am ever grateful that time only moves in one direction. If the present is one of infinite possibilities, integrated outcomes, from the function that is the past, then it has the same value as each path untaken. The forks are always going to exist. The duck will always keep walking.

Perhaps I didn't go to Anqi's wedding. Perhaps I didn't add Andreas on Instagram. Perhaps I didn't move to Beijing.

But I did go to the SKE grad. I did start Operation 22.5. And I did grow while fighting for joy.

And from the looks of it, I'll keep waddling along, leaving prints in the sand.