Sometimes, I can recall it like a vision. It is always that face. That expression. I can remember it so clearly, so vividly, as if it were another facet of reality. It is substantial, even if it exists only in my mind. Like wisps of smoke that can be barely perceptible at times and purely solid from afar. If I reach out, and try to touch the skin, it is there, and I can feel it.

I am so sure of it.

It makes me afraid not knowing what it might mean. Then again, if there were any meanings at all, then it would have to be something that will reveal itself in time. At least, so I hope. Is that all there is then? Just a long wait for something I am not certain would even occur. It does feel right, I will admit. More right than anything else in this life, for that matter. Some part of me knows that this is the only thing that matters, in my life, for it will define and set me upon a path that only we can walk. Almost as if it is a trigger that would spark a chain of events into motion, and to which no conclusion is foreseeable as of yet. The chain of events, the sequence of tragedies, perhaps, have a sense of inevitability about them; pre-ordained some might say, though I am not certain if I buy into such ponderings. Ironic indeed that a person of utmost faith such as me, would be in denial of fate and destiny. No, whatever else I might believe, it is my solemn faith that freewill is our nature, not just as living beings, but as sentient self-aware entities. Destiny seems pointless.

Yet the vision becomes a harbinger of destiny and fate; prophetic in many ways. Something is about to happen, someone is about to take a step or make a decision that will have been determined by forces beyond comprehension and knowledge. The face I envision speaks of inevitability, speaks of the choices that are bound to be made, though what they are for certain I have no idea. They are there, nonetheless, haunting the steps of being.