The danger is coursing through me.
I can feel it itching under my fingernails.
In the places so deep that I freeze up knowing there is no pulling it out without destroying myself.
Of course it’s not going to be easy.
The difficult choice means letting the danger run its course, letting myself feel every moment of its damp breath on my neck, every terrifying sensation it has to offer. It’s true that we don’t like to let strangers into our hearts. And though danger is no stranger, nothing feels quite stranger than being in danger.
You can’t stop the inevitable.
As much as I don’t believe in fate, once you have started something it is going to see itself through one way or another. You do of course have a say in how it plays out, though perhaps not in how it ends. You can choose to fight or let it ride. Some things are worth the fight, and no doubt this could be one of those. But there is a feeling so deep inside my gut that this isn’t, and maybe I should just let it ride and see where the danger decides to take me tonight.
For better or for worse.
I dig deep.
I dig in the places I’ve left still for so long.
Places I forgot about in hopes that no one could get to them, deep enough so not even I could pull them up.
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