A Perfect Future

I had only the best of intentions.  When I realized my visions were revealing the future, I vowed to use the power for good, and I did, in a superficial sense.  I'd see the impending  test and give my friends suggestions of what to study.  I warned them about police officers who would have caught them speeding.  I always had a hunch of what would be a good or bad idea.  In time, I started noticing that other people were acting differently towards me.  Those I helped would look to me for advice any time they had to make a choice, accepting my counsel unquestioningly, and as their endeavors succeeded, they leaned on me more and more.  With horror, I acknowledged the truth: I had taken away my friends' power, or at least their will, to make choices and learn from the consequences.  And as I dug deeper into the future than ever before, I saw the devastation that would result from that loss: the people I love, mindless slaves of the fear to make a mistake, unable to make a choice without knowing that the results will be favorable.  I swore that day to never use the power again, for evil or for supposed good, and I have been haunted ever since by the visions of disasters that I refuse to prevent.  A perfect future doesn't exist, and who am I to try to force others into one?  What's more destructive, a tragedy or the fear of it?