While the voices claim you were never meant for me, but someone else, he who shall not be named publicly, I keep thinking of the police in Norway.
I remembering walking with them to the courthouse holding cell, they didn’t use force and didn’t handcuff me, they allowed me to walk alongside them, and follow directions.
In hindsight, I do remember thinking “I could just run” but I didn’t. And now I think, well, the police had all my things.
Clothes.
Wallet.
Cellphone.
Even if I got away I’d be stranded.
Even if I had my credit cards I’d leave a paper trail and they could find me wherever I decided to rest at night.
It’s the illusion of choice almost.
I did what was in my best interest, almost on instinct. I don’t remember thinking out the “what ifs” but maybe it all flashed briefly in my mind.