Summary: It's hard to make a decision when the outcome is uncertain. Double drabble, slightly surreal.
In your imagination, you hover above an intersection, vibrating with unfulfilled purpose, panning around the overwhelming landscape of options.
That is the joy—no, the torture—no, the fascination—of this moment.
When you were a child, this was the moment before tearing away the gift wrapping. Would it reveal what you had always longed for, or a big disappointment?
The instant before the choice; of perfect nothingness, of only unlimited possibility. Before the universe shifts, changes for good.
Once made, the decision is irreversible and you must accept responsibility for its consequences, whatever the outcome.
A fork in the road. The Cheshire Cat pipes up in your head: "Where do you want to go?" Alice tells him that she doesn't know. To which he replies: "Then every choice is the right one."
You can see the beauty in that separation between choice and outcome; understand the logic of it.
In hindsight, outcome may be the logical consequence of choice, but that they were inexorably linked before, like some sort of destiny, is ludicrous to you.
And that clinches it.
Your lips decide before your brain consciously does: a gossamer brush against his—because that's where they wanted to go.
Note: just in case it was unclear to anyone, the Cheshire Cat and Alice are references to Alice in Wonderland.