Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I am stuck.

Everything feels so wrong and so right at the same time.

The rock is what keeps me sane.

The hard place runs in my veins.

I don’t blame anyone but myself for making this such a hard choice.

Or a choice in the first place.

Even the thought of this person makes me yearn for a place I not once considered home.

But home is where the heart is and my rib cage is coloured GREEN, WHITE, and GOLD.

The immovable object withholds through all efforts to remove it.

The thought of something permanent seemed so unlikely to me for a while there. I suppose I thought that the only thing that would always endure was the idea itself. 

(Things are never as simple as they seem, and even when you believe you have solved a problem, there is always one more layer. )

Maybe I was happy with what I thought was a simple life. 

(Not really here, not really there, always being somewhere and wishing I was somewhere else.)

Then along came the so called “immovable object”, which didn’t seem so bad when I wasn’t being acted upon by outside forces. 

I should have suspected that this time would come. Here I am being torn and ripped as I try to cling to the thing that made me so happy for so long.

The question is.

Do I let go?