There are two parts to my story, even if it hasn't ended yet. On the right, us the future I strive for. One of independence, happiness and stability. Void of any of the tragic and terrifying aspects of what lays waiting on the left. For on that side, there is only pain, doubt, hate and self loathing. I have the scars to prove it. I keep kicking against the tide, aiming for the blessed life on the right. The ocean of my life ties around my wrists and ankles, pulling me back to the left. I have swam against those ties for years, and the human body can only take so much before it starts to give in. Every day it becomes harder and harder to reach for the right. And every day it becomes more and more apparent that the left is incapable of fatigue. Lidless eyes watch me struggle, needing neither sleep nor rest... as I do. It feels as though it would be easier to just give in. Bu I have walked the left path before, and I know the effort to break free will pay off some day. Maybe I can't always see it, but in my heart I know it. The cliché of this too shall pass screams inside my head, trying to save me. But in the end, that final kick that will free me must happen due to my choice. I lay in wait, biding my time, staying stagnant... until the strength comes, and I can move to my right, condemning the pull of the left to a life of failure and it watches me succeed.