A short story about indecision and dissatisfaction.

When I was young and naïve, and my world had been delighted between sunlit smiles and white winter snow fights, I formed the error in judgement that would come to be my hamartia. I made the stupid mistake of believing, even in my childish whims, that if I cast out a beautiful net, I would attract beautiful things. Unfortunately, and yet inevitably I was wrong.
Beyond the summer of my 18th birthday lay the first true uncertainty I would know. At first, the indecision was easy, it lay somewhere in the future off a cliff somewhere far away. Like the morning sun, the gentle heat of May and June passed by in hours of warmth and lazy denial, July got hotter and the days burned away faster, and then it was August and I was already burned. Coarse, red, bubbling blistered skin- too…