Two people walked the same road.

One knew the road well.
He told me where to step,
what to carry,
and what else I should do along the way
because life would not stop at the end of this road.

I listened.
I trusted him.
I worked.

Some turns felt unclear,
but I kept walking
because he was the one guiding.

Once before, I walked too fast.
I pushed myself without rest.
That was the time I lost someone I loved.

After that, I became careful.
Not lazy.
Careful.

This time, I studied and walked forward,
but I also stopped when my heart felt heavy.
I watched stories.
I found small breaks.
Not to run away,
but to stay calm and alive.

When the road ended badly,
the other person looked at the result
and said I did not walk at all.

He did not ask
if the turns were right.
He did not see the effort.
Only the ending.

It has been two years of hearing this,
two years of blame,
while I know how much I carried.

Some people think hard work means pain only.
I learned that too much pain can take lives.

So I chose balance.
I chose to move slowly,
even if the road was not the right one,
so nothing I care about would be lost again.

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Yeah its unrelated, you can ignore this. Just wanted to let it out.