Blank Pages and a Full Pen

I feel like I am getting ready to start a new chapter in my life. It is kind of funny because I feel that for the last little bit the pages were written so fast that I wasn’t even so sure where I was at. In a way lost in my own story. Then pen stopped and the story halted. I stand at a new cross road. Trying to be bold and do what the great poet Frost said and take the road less traveled, but I am not even sure what road that is.
My labored work has been crumpled and the writing gone. The paper was not wasted though and those writings were not in vain. I learned valuable lessons in my life through those ink splashed papers. The writing was sweet and filled with love and with happiness that I had never known before in my life. It also contained very dramatic scenes that usually find themselves in Shakespeare’s plays of love and feud. Unfortunately the writings seemed to have an ill fated outcome no matter the writer’s wishes. It became too much with all of its many twists and turns and the chapter had to end.
There were no cliff hangers, just blank paper. An endless amount of possibilities wait to be told. My hand has become cramped with the fast paced and extensive drama that found its way into my life. I don’t wish for more drama. I could do with a simple Waiting for Godot at this point. Where last several years have felt like a soap opera a seemingly calm chapter would be nice.
So now I sit. Tapping the pen trying to decide? What happens next?