A thumb kicks, a coin flips.  Steps taken move toward the wanted location.  The warm smells of the bakery fills the nose as the door slowly swings to an open.  But which one? The choice is simple, yet simple is as simple does, complicate.  I look down at the glass, sweet roll, or croissant.  You have to make the right choice. But, as long as you don’t choose, everything remains possible.  I walk away, out through the door I just had taken time to come into.  I was unable to make a choice because I didn’t know what would happen.  But the path that was taken by not buying anything, allowed for every possibility to open.  Now I know what will happen, I am now unable to make a choice. 

I can remember my birth, I remember that I could remember everything, everything that could happen, everything that would happen, and everything that did happen.  But something happened that I do not remember that changed my way of thinking.  All my prior knowledge of what had the possibility of occurring, was gone.  It has been accepted that the prediction of a planet or star at any point in time, even two hundred years from now will be an accurate prediction.  But why can’t I predict what will happen twenty minutes from now.
Walking down the sun warmed street, built up in my own thought process, a voice breaks my attention.  It was Ruby, a girl in one of my classes, red hair gleams in the sun as it kisses it.  The bench she uses to rest looks lonesome. 
“Hi Milo.” She said with a quite embrace.  Smiling softly, almost a smirk, attempting to not allow our eyes to meet,
“Hi Ruby,” I continued on my way.
As I reach my house, my friend greets me with a simple bob of the head.  Not wearing a shirt, he struts on past me to retrieve his coffee.  The tension between us had grown over the last few years.  An uncomfortable build that I had only felt with strangers or people I wanted to impress.  As time goes by, people change, ways of thinking change, everything goes through some sort of change.  But why? Why do things need to change?  It is the tendency of the universe to fall towards a state of disorder.  In a way, the universe is almost the definition of entropy.  It all moves towards a state of dissipation.  The tendency of everything we know, to move toward a start of irreversibility. 
The next day rolls around and my bed feels unsettling.  I walk to the kitchen, all the cupboards are open, and my bare feet feel the cold tile on every square inch of them.  I drag myself to my roommate’s room, not feeling any connection to what I saw in the kitchen.  It’s empty.  A note calls to me in the middle of the floor.  “I am not going to be here anymore.” It reads.  One foot pulls itself in front of the other towards my room.  One pant leg at a time, just like everyone else. 
What is the point of staying here right now, there is no one here for me.  The street feels the same as always did anyway.  I reach the sweet smells of the bakery, but still can’t decide on what I want to buy.  I leave the possibilities open.  The sight of a long blonde haired girl catches the corner of my eye as I open the door to the outside.  I’ve seen her before, almost every day, she works at the bakery.  Her name tag spells Madison and her blue jeans match the blue shirt she has on top.  The smile begins to stretch across her face as she turns around from the garbage bins fills my face with emotion.  She drops the bags in the bin, and walks right up to me.  Hands me her number written on a ripped off piece of paper, and walks away.  Not a word was exchanged.  A smile over the shoulder as she walks away.  I can’t help but blush. 
Filled with new excitement I hurry home to find myself alone, once again.  The couch cushions my blow as I lay down upon it.  One letter at a time I input the number hand written on the scratch piece of paper.  My hands move for themselves, as I type in to the keyboard,
“Hey, it’s Milo.”
A quick answer back as my phone buzzes in anticipation,
“Meet me at The Shack tonight at 9 ;)”
The Shack is the local club where they hold DJs trying to make it big, and private events.  On Friday night especially, there will be a line out the door.  I spend my time before then getting ready, the old s*** shower shave.  8:30 P.M. rolls around and I grab my coat and hurry down the stairs towards the few block walk that I have ahead of me to get to The Shack.  As I reach the stairs to The Shack, I can feel the music thump I my stomach, and the lights blowing out of every corner of the building.  I walk in to the shocking view of Madison making out with another man.  An eye of hers wonders into my direction, and she quickly pushes him away.  A shard yelling motion is seen but the music is too loud to hear.  Arguing with a man in a beanie and a rugged jacket that looked as if used to work in.  Fully screaming over the music, he turns away throwing a hand behind him in disbelief, leaving Madison.  Her shoulder hits the wall and she slides down toward the floor tears rolling down her face.  I run towards her, place my hand on her shoulder, our eyes meet and the words,
“Can we get out of here?” roll out of her mouth. 
I pick her up and we walk together out of The Shack.  It is a cool summer’s night, and the wind cools the heat from the end of the day and blows through the trees and grass.  We walk side by side down the path and then she stops and I turn around to look face to face with her.  Her eyes begin to close and her head leans towards mine.  Our lips lock and endorphins flood my brain.  What happens next is led by the high of adrenaline I am now feeling.  What happens when we fall in love? Well as a result of certain stimuli, endorphins in a high quantity are released into the brain and the body But why that woman, and why me? Is it a release of certain pheromones, or a certain aesthetic that compliments the person in a positive light?   A familiar feature that seems warming, a motherly like feature? The human race does use love in many ways, making it a question, is love apart of something bigger?  Bacteria and viruses are asexual organisms.  Growing and multiplying at such an alarming rate, that they are able to perfect the wanted goal much faster than we can fight it.  This is where the human race responds with one of the awe-inspiring weapons, sex.  Two individuals, by mixing genes, a new creation is created that has the power to withstand viruses much better than their parent. 
I open my eyes to find myself in my own bed.  The one I remember going home with last night has cleaned up her stuff and left quicker than she had arrived.  I sit up, and throw my legs and feet over the side of the bed. 
A few days pass and the texts from me to Madison begin to build up, I hear nothing from her.  At this point I see it as nothing more than a way for her to get something she wanted.  Walking from my house to class, I pass the The Shack.  I see Madison standing outside talking with the same guy from the first meeting.  He stomps away down the steps as they both yell at each other.  I grasp my backpack straps and walk right up to her.  Crying hysterically, she stands up out of the crouched position she had assumed.  I put my hand on her shoulder again. 
“I feel that we should fight for the people we love.” I say quietly
Her mouth opens,
“Milo, I can’t, I love him, but he will never love me.”
“Milo, I…”
I put my finger on her lips,
“Time does not always need to be confronted with the use of words.”
Our eyes match for enough time for her to lean in towards me and our lips meet once again.  From that moment on, life was stressful.  Days turn into years, love turns into feeling bad for the other.  Years would pass with this monotonous relationship I had put myself into.  I had love for her because at this point I had to, marriage does this to two people.  She would lie in bed for days on end, putting me into a point where I had to accomplish everything to keep life moving for the both of us.  The littlest comment or hand of appreciation would evolve into her in tears.  The bed we shared was uncomfortable. 
On that day in particular, the bed felt even more uncomfortable.  It was empty with me being left on the inside.  A calm breeze flew over me as I walked about the house to look for Madison.  A note on the kitchen table, explains all I need to know.
“Thank you for everything, Madison.” Signed at the bottom. 

Where does that leave me? A constant stream of new thoughts and worries fills my head. What am I to do now? How does life continue after your life leaves out the door?  I pick up the phone and dial her, over and over, days on end, nothing.  The house I’ve built around myself and my life feels uncomfortable, but the street feels the same as it always has.  I walk towards the bakery that fills my mind with memories and worries.  Approaching the stoop I pass a bench, where the same ruby red hair gleamed before.  There she was.  I stop in m steps, and turn my head ever so slightly, there she is, Ruby.  Her head looks up and her legs carry the rest of her body upward to meet eye to eye with myself. Time stops and for a moment everything that was, has never been.  We both smile slowly.   Every path is the right path.  Everything happens for a reason.  Everything could've been anything else. And it would have just as much meaning to me.