Are 'Another Turning Point A Fork Stuck In The Road' Lyrics From Green Day?

After my song was cut short at karaoke, I found myself back at the song selection machine. I just had to wait for 28 more songs until it would finally be my turn again. The next song was called "The Answer". My boyfriend, John Aldama, and my best friend, Selena Summers, gave each other a look of mild disdain but decided to sing the duet to prevent an awkward silence. Their voices, one cool and one sweet, complemented each other perfectly. Ever since high school, they'd been neck and neck on the honor roll, always vying for first and second place. Even after joining a top-tier company, they'd constantly bicker over projects. Even years after graduation, the people in our high school group chat were still "shipping" their "love-hate dynamic". No matter how hard I tried, I always remained the forgotten third person, an overlooked backdrop. Listening to them sing, I suddenly felt so tired. I no longer felt like singing the song that I had to wait endlessly for. I quietly deleted the song I'd selected and sent a confirmation to the email that asked me to be relocated abroad for work.

Love is undefined, unbound by rules. It is something that no person could actually give meaning to until he finds that one human being who gives him the exact definition of it. But is love enough to keep two people together? Or is it just another ideology that somehow got wired into everyone's brain? Or maybe people who are in love are simply blind enough to see the reality and would rather continue living in that paradise dream?

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.

I have an ability in which I can see the countdown to someone's emotional departure. The day Dad's countdown hits zero, he leaves behind divorce papers and abandons Mom and me. The day my best friend's countdown hits zero, she finally dumps her jerk of a boyfriend. I'm always terrified of seeing a countdown appear above Levi Hammond's head. But thankfully, seven years into our marriage, his head is still clear. I am thankful every day that I married a good man. However, when he picks me up from work last month, I look up and see bright red text burning into my vision. [702 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.] That's less than two years from now. My heart clenches, and I frantically search for answers in my head. Have I done something wrong? Has he changed his mind? Things don't fall into place until our anniversary, when we run into his intern, Belinda Manning, outside his office building during a torrential downpour. She's soaked to the skin, but she still has a bright smile on her face. Levi hands her a pack of tissues to dry off, his face unreadable. However, in that instant, the countdown suddenly jumps. [327 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes.] The number of days has dropped by more than 300. The sound of rain is deafening in my ears. But I know now that I have found the reason for it.

During the fifth year following the zombie apocalypse, my father becomes the base commander. It is all because Beckett Walker, my younger brother, and I both have antibodies in our blood that can counter the zombie virus. Mom and Dad give the majority of the supplies and resources to Beckett, because I'm just his "backup". But since I'm the backup, I'm still fed and provided for to ensure that nothing happens to me. However, when I accidentally take the food that was meant for Beckett, Dad slaps me in anger. "You already received your portion of the supplies, so why are you trying to steal Beckett's? He's not only your younger brother, but he's also the hope and future of the base!" Mom shrieks at me, "Are you trying to kill your brother so you can take his place?" I want to refute them. I only took it by accident. I didn't do it on purpose. But before I can, Dad locks me up in the cryopod. It's dark and freezing. I curl up in a corner, my body shaking. I'm sorry, Dad. It's so cold. I promise I won't ever be greedy for food again.

Four years of secretly living with Joshua Horton behind our parents' backs. Then a new sticky note showed up on our wish wall. [After living with Nellie all these years, I'm trapped. Marrying her is just a way to make our mess look legit. If I could do it over, I never would've moved in.] Signed: [Joshua] But the date was six years from now. Joshua had put up that wall himself the day we moved in. Over the years, I'd covered it with tiny wishes. He'd made every one come true. Only two notes were his. The first said: [When we graduate, I'm marrying you! Nellie, you have to stay with me!] He wrote that four years ago. The other came from six years in the future. Graduation was one week away. Out of those two promises, I could only help him keep one.