I must admit, the lure almost makes me go. The idea of being sure, of finding acceptance, of making sense of the unknown makes my fingers twitch, the little whips of hair curling the base of my neck prickle. I picture a room draped in colored silks and the air drowning in secrets and incense. I see each card being flipped, confusion as my eyes stare at the pictures I can never understand.
And then I start to breathe faster.
I hear news I can't bare; he isn't the one, that will never work, extreme change, stormy shores, death. The aren't going to be there... No one is going to be there.
And I turn away from the idea, convincing that tiny little part of my brain that knowing the future, being confident in something for once isn't worth it.
Because knowing the future can take away your hopes just as easily as it can give them life. Knowing that will happen can make your dreams shatter and the fortune teller isn't there to pick up the pieces unless more money falls across their lap.
And knowing the future can rip away what you so love in the present, letting the future come to past much quicker then it has too.
You doubt everything.
Because if I know my future I will have no free will, decisions chosen for me for life from the knowledge that I paid for and can not return.