Choice
“You don’t like choices do you.”
“No. It’s like somedays I’d rather not make any choices at all and then those are the days they come pummeling in.
“Yeah, you can be a bit petulant on those days.”
“And then there are the days when I really do want to make a choice, but the choice most obvious is the least attractive. Is it wrong to want what I want? To wish for certain things that are unique only to me?”
“A bit imperious, are you? No. It’s not wrong. Not wrong to wish about it anyway.
You remind me of a little girl I saw once. She found a pile of books and couldn’t stop picking out which ones she wanted until she had more than an armful. Then when she tried to carry them across the room, they fell out of her arms one by one.”
“So, I can choose what I want as long as I don’t go haywire about it?”
“Sort of, but not really.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that choice is really about what matters most. When you choose ten books out of the book pile, do you really want them all?”
“Well, probably not really. I mean, there are maybe three in that stack that I really like, so I could go with three instead of ten.”
“Can you read all three at once?”
“Obviously not.”
“So, trim it down to one then.”
“Okay, maybe. But what about everything else I’d miss out on?”
“Can you do that and read your book at the same time?”
“No.”
“Can you read your book and talk to me at the same time?”
“No.”
“Right. And I don’t want you reading a book when you talk to me. That is why I made choice, so that when it’s all said and done, it’s just you and me, nothing else you have chosen to bring along.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I’m jealous that way. And you know what? If you choose me above all else, I will never waste our time together with someone or something else.
Because you are that much to me. ”