Someday in the future, when looking back on these years of confusion and uncertainty, I hope I can calmly say something like this:

Back then, I kept asking the meaning of life over and over, getting lost in all kinds of grand narratives, wrestling with myself late into countless nights, draining myself until I was nearly breaking down.
Fortunately, in the end, I still chose the path that truly belonged to me. No pandering, no evasion—just taking one step at a time toward firmness, courage, and clarity.
Only later did I understand that although it can seem like there are countless possibilities laid out in front of you, the choice that truly belongs to you was never that complicated.
It wasn’t the world that limited my options. It was my personality, abilities, experiences, responsibilities, and the deepest values in my heart that had already decided which roads I would ultimately never take—and which roads, no matter how far I detoured, I would still find my way back to.
So confusion isn’t because there are too many paths. It’s because I hadn’t yet recognized the one path that was always mine.