Sometimes, when no one's looking, when life sneaks up on you the way it does, you feel it, getting to you, like a forgotten memory you never saw coming. You feel it, you know it's there, so instead, you ignore it. It's not because you're afraid, and it's definitely not because you don't care, it's just, well, it's easier this way. However, the problem with easy is that, eventually, sooner rather than later, you grow out of it. Because easy is for the weak hearted, for the shadows on the wall who don't know any better. It's for the freed prisoner sitting by the fire who never even bothered to look beyond the cave, while Socrates, all dead and buried, rolls in his fancy little grave.
And so, with easy not being an option, you find yourself at a crossroad. You can turn right, left, or you can go forward. You are not allowed to go back. Back is easy. Back is safe. Safe is uninteresting. Safe is not living. So you sit, right there, right in the middle. Passersby, thinking you've lost it (you probably did), come up to you, asking you all sorts of questions. People are curious that way. You ignore them. You're good at that. Instead, you nod and you smile. They don't know what they're talking about.
Eventually, you force yourself to get up. Now standing, you take a good look to your right, a good look to your left, and a good look forward. With your eyes closed, you spin, in a clockwise direction, until your head starts to hurt. So you stop. Then, just as everything starts to fall into place, you open your eyes.