Attachment theory

​What a sick plot twist, to find out

That your entire life and all your questions

Were answered before you turned six

Is that what we’re all chasing?

Seeking to relive our childhood

Or to change it altogether,

There are only two ways to go

For every choice you make,

You either mimic the past

Or try to change your future,

Only there’s countless to be made,

Most happen beyond your conscious control,

Motor-memory, your brain on autopilot,

Am I chasing? Or am I running away?

How can this be so one-dimensional though?

How can we? Where’s the room for uncertainty?

Isn’t love more than just a series of decisions?

If you are simply the sum of the things you do,

Then do better

there is no right or wrong, 

only repetition or rebellion

while accounting for your happiness,

There is no path set in stone, no moral code

But I’d leave some room for magic anyway,

The occasional miracle 

And unfounded optimism,

For what is life without some hope.