My indecision haunts me. I’m northbound on I-95 in SC, just shy of exit 77. I’ve left behind me the scene of an accident. I got there shortly after it happened. Emergency personnel had not yet arrived. I pulled off to the shoulder, just past the accident. And there I sat. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know CPR. I don’t know emergency procedures. I realized rather quickly that I would be just another asshole walking around and asking people if they were okay, but powerless to help if they weren’t.
I finally got out of the truck. I figured if nothing else I could just be there for somebody and give them something to focus on. But by the time I got near the accident, emergency personnel were arriving en masse. Clearly they wouldn’t need me. The only thing I managed to do was get thoroughly drenched by the rain.
I hate this indecision. I wish I had time to get some training. I have the heart to help. I want to help. If I knew a thing or two about what to do, maybe I would.
I feel like the Universe is trying to tell me something. It keeps coming to me in the guise of people wanting or needing help. And each and every time I fail them.
I am not the man I want to be.

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