My realities change every moment. Every new day causes something else to become irrelevant, like it never even existed at all.
This week I buy houseplants to amuse a child that won't be here for half a year. Last week's abortion pills sit unopened on the table, meaningless, a reality that could have been but isn't.
What already has been is the only reality. It is the chosen path, other paths at the time now overgrown and forgotten.
Maybe the baby will like philodendrons.