I’m standing in the middle of the road on the double yellow line at the five mile marker made from a question mark holding a gun to my head. Where did my light guardians go? It has been so long since I have seen them. It has been so long since I have felt their protection. I feel so lost without them. How long did they think that I could last in 3D without their support?
I turn around and I see that there is no use in holding the gun to my head. The road is ten miles long and I am at the five mile mark. It is not possible to make the road any shorter. And I am not capable of shortening the road. Once on it there is no turning back. It doesn’t matter how I feel. It doesn’t matter that I’m ready to leave. My mission is long forgotten by me, hidden somewhere in my RAM. I’m sure it will appear again when the time is right. There is a reason why I am at the five mile mark and not the six or the seven or the eight. Have faith. I take a deep breath. I drop my hand that is holding the gun. It hangs limply at my side as I heave a little sigh and take my next step forward down this road that will, eventually, in time, lead me home.