One day you come close to it.
Sometime ago, a decision would have taken you along a different road, off the default path. We choose possible futures that way, with decisions. And along this road we would have toiled our way towards the destination — the same one if we had stayed on the path and not taken the diversion.
One day you come close to your destination. You don’t reach it, you come close to it and see what could have been, if you had stayed the original path. The destination is not yours, yet. You see your fellow traveller at the destination, he, who stayed the original path. A whirlpool of questions and regrets envelope you. As the giddiness subsides, you go back to the day you chose the left fork in the road. It seems like a longer walk. It seems, you have to walk much more to get to the same place that you see now.
How can the same destination be further away from you can see it in front of you?
Am I using time to measure the distance? And if I don’t measure the distance in time, and use miles and kilometres to measure it — have I taken a longer route? And if that is true, how do I still see it here? Why have I not reached it? Why does it elude me?
You know your destination lies further ahead. Perhaps this is just a way of letting you know what lies ahead, when you eventually get there. A bit of providential intervention for your motivation, perhaps. Perhaps, a question for you; a glimpse of what lies ahead — a chance to confirm if your intended destination is the same; if you would like to recalibrate your expectations; your ambitions; your desires.
That envelope of a whirlpool will now be your constant companion. And you will walk away from your destination and walk with more vigour towards it.