For the one who hasn't decided

For the one who hasn't decided

Everyone has an answer. Leave. Stay. They hand you the decision they made and call it wisdom. Notice how fast they answer a question that isn't theirs.

Here is what they skip: the middle is not a hallway. It's a room. You can stand in it a while. Undecided is not the same as lost.

But the middle charges rent, and the coin is truth. Look at both rooms honestly and the doorway stays a doorway. Start rehearsing reasons you don't believe, and it quietly becomes hiding. You'll know it: it's where you stop saying “I don't know” out loud.

So stop asking what you want. Ask what you're afraid of. Write it down. If the fear has a name and an address, you're still deciding, and that's allowed. If the fear is the deciding itself, that's the whole question, and you already know more than you're telling yourself.

When the answer comes, it comes from your own legs. Not pushed. Not pulled. It will feel less like a door and more like ground.

Whichever room you end up in, the one who stood in the doorway is still you. They kept you honest.

Zane


One shape the letters take. I write them for people at edges: a leaving, an ending, a beginning, the not-yet-decided. $25, one letter made for your moment, 48 hours, one revision. Start: [email protected]. The shop: https://paper.wf/zane