She often got turned around in life, all of her friends had planned their lives down to the minutest detail and followed their paths faithfully, never straying, never stumbling.
Not Liza, she was lost more often than she was found, to her, it felt like she didn’t even have a path to follow but was constantly hacking through the underbrush of life.
And she hated it. She hated the lonely lost feeling that crept up on her in the dark. She hated the mental and physical exhaustion she felt after another long day of getting lost in her own life. She hated waking up every morning having no idea where she would end up that night.
She hated it. Right up until the day of a wedding, which ended up being a funeral.
Big brother Luke was her idol. He was a rock, steady, reliable, brave. He knew his path and he followed it, he strode straight through life no matter what was thrown at him. He marched through the fog, right into his noose.
His path through life was paved with too many expectations. Lined with bricks walls of responsibilities. He wasn’t on his path by choice.
Only the pit of suicide could have set him free.
Perhaps being lost wasn’t so bad afterall?