The Simple Reality

Overthinker's Club

"Oh, stop it," she huffed, annoyedly to herself. "The last thing we need now, really." But half way into fixing a sandwich for her and Tilda, she had gotten herself lost in the small device on her phone, into one of her bad habits— peering into media to see what is being said. Google searches were enough to complete the terrible deed of filling her head. There's no need to add or question. She didn't even bear to look for long. The world knew, surely they did. Björn and Agnetha talk was not looking like talk, it was looking like their reality. Everything was dissected into details and bits. What was there left to hide? If news sources weren't the ones commenting that Björn's divorce happened to be because he'd found his way back to Agnetha, rest assured, social media made it crystal clear.

But for now, this blonde concerned woman had felt she had enough. She'd been staying away from social media for a long time for a reason, and the one time she caves into reading, everything had her stress all over again. Her mind had given her a break as she settled into the main room, setting two plates on the table for her and Tilda.

"You're the best," Tilda said. "I don't come here to see anyone else but you," she added moodily. "Not that anyone else is here to accept me anyway."

"Don't your sisters know you're coming by?"

"No."

"Your father's not too far. Last I heard he's at the stables." The young woman took in her grandmother's words at the same time she took a bite in, a delicious open faced sandwich. "What is the matter, Tilda?" There was silence for a while, two of them eating and laughing here and there to see two dogs at their feet, watching them and awaiting to be fed. Bella was small enough, though heavier now, to have a place reserved between them on the couch, but that couldn't have been wise. Peppa stood his paws on the couch and impatiently watched with wide eyes.

"Nothing for you now," spoke Tilda to the dogs. The young woman brushed off her fingers and curled against the couch with a blanket and faced her grandmother, who comfortingly winked to be told what the matter was. The girl had turned and sunk down the couch a bit more, stretching her legs to the table in front of her. Her grandmother only followed.

"Do you ever feel like you have no idea what you're doing anymore? Or like you have no idea what you want? I thought I knew, but I actually don't." Her grandmother's laugh was soft in between those sentences.

"Oh Tilda, so many times. So many times I thought I knew what I wanted..."

"But you didn't?"

"No. No, I didn't. And at your age, it's confusing."

"I hate it. Because yes... It's confusing."

"Everything gets confusing from time to time. It's not always clear. That's why when we make decisions we have to decide what's best for us in the moment... and hopefully it's the better one for the future as well," she told her, her tone becoming more positive and hopeful.

"I feel lost sometimes," she breathed. "It's pressuring. You see everyone else has it figured out. And then you don't. Maybe I am impatient. Maybe I don't want to miss out on something."

"It's okay to be lost sometimes. I think it gives us a chance to discover what we really want."

"But I don't know exactly what I want."

"That's fine," Agnetha reassured. "You have time. If it's not today you find it, there's tomorrow too."

"But is it responsible? I go on like I know what I'm doing when I don't feel like anything makes sense at all. I mean, if I have to make a decision, one day it makes sense, the next morning it's a terrible decision."

"You know what is responsible? How much you're thinking about it. If you were not responsible, you'd have taken the first decision immediately without considering other options. Give yourself more credit."