I Knew We Wouldn't Make It

I knew this whole time, I knew that we would never make it.

We would never achieve this thing that we set out to do, this thing that we dreamed of.

But oh, how exciting it was to try! We devised endless paths to reach our destination. We even walked a few! Climbed some. Pulled ourselves with hands clawing deep into the earth, bellies dragging beneath us before deciding to try yet another path.

And how did I know that we wouldn't make it? Well, that I don’t know. But I do know that it wasn’t born of pessimism or resentment; some sad and lonely man who doesn’t believe in his own reflection. No, I just knew.

And I also knew that it didn’t matter if we made it or not. I signed up for the journey, for the adventure. I wasn’t in it for the big payday. Each moment of our trials – when we cried, when we rejoiced, when we snatched up a pen to scribble down our next idea before it fled our mind – each moment is what I wanted.

And I got exactly what I wanted.