I don’t want to be the clueless one, slowly but surely twirling into the abyss where people who realize it too late go.

I don’t want to be treated as an option, when the truth is you picked me because I’m your best chance of temporary solace. That kind of desperation doesn’t help to make a choice in the same way I choose who I’d like to be close with. It doesn’t really count.

But I don’t want to keep myself shut down. I’d rather put myself out there in the open. That way, as vulnerable as I am, I’m prepared to pick up my pieces when the hammer goes down and the arrow shoots me.