Why am I, in the wrong? Why do I, have to be the one in control of my emotions? Why am I, the one that has to keep myself in check? Why can’t I, punch his face over and over until he unrecognizable. Why can’t I, be the one who doesn’t care? Why can’t I, be the one who acts out on his impulses?

Suddenly restrained, I cannot help myself. I am roasting in fury at the self of I. For I am the reason, that this human is shackled. Every decision is trampled on. Every action is limited. And each light of hope is dimmed. This is I. The obstruction.

When others reminisce; I cringe. Ridden with guilt, regret and spite; forward is not a direction available to me. There is no hidden door that will open. Doomed is my life, doomed is his future and doomed is, all he will ever be.

I am, the servant to the man, who doesn’t know what he wants. Hesitant and indecisive; I wait for his command, as it is, my only path to salvation. Only then, shall he grant me my freedom.

I stand by woefully as he never chooses. He disputes with himself over what is best. Not for a moment, does he give thought to ask me, what I think. He prefers to keep thinking; as the decision, never made; is much more appealing than: god forbid: the wrong decision.

At this moment, I pray that any answer will find him, as this man is hopeless.

I will die here. Recognizing, my life has been wasted; waiting for this man. I want to be free, however I am paralyzed until he decides. I am suffocating under the fumes of his thoughts. Why won’t this man choose? What can I do?

For, the man who can do everything he wants, does not imagine about the future self, he will soon be.

Yet, this is wrong. For, the man that does everything he wants, no decisions is ever made; the man only lives.

Hopeless is I. For, I am the one who has to decide because what I would prefer, is to not live and to let myself die.

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