I could see now quite clearly that I was staring down a crossroads, and that I was going to be faced with the most dreadful of choices. The heaviness of my heart as I looked down that one path - gloomy, grey, but with the tendrils of practicality overtaking it like a jungle. The other was a chance, a gamble, a guess. I suppose the other was where my heart lay, beating sluggishly with only the barest of hope. There was that choice, yes, and then the looming choice of love over opportunity, if the love was to endure to that terrible exclamation.
And then - I had words swirling inside of me like colored water, churning, confused. Again, again, like an animal in a cage when the key was around my own neck, too cowardly to fit it in the lock! The fear of the unknown stayed my hand. The choking path: that, at least, was familiar. It was planned, it had been planned, it seemed forseen, inescapable, written in the sand since my inception.
The pressure, the overhanging cloud of the other, the fog down my throat like a vice. My time was ending, and the moment to act was approaching.