I wander nightly and ponder your name, questioning your very existence. I seek the truth and to find nirvana – I need something that will listen.

Curiosity finds a deep morose and excitement runs into doubt, the wandering and pondering has me aching in and out.

My heart yearns to find the truth, but, since when has that really mattered? All my life I’ve ignored my heart with its desires and drives so strong and scattered.

How does a man choose a woman? How does a woman choose a man? What drives this ***** love of chance into something deeper, something planned?

Is there a plan to such romance, is it all just luck? Do we cast a die that decides our future or do we just get married, then ****?

What if I think there is more to it? What if I think there should be some logic involved? My heart is flippant, truant, untrustworthy, so why should I trust its random call?

It seems that if I want love to work, my brain must love you too. It must get rid of the doubts, the questions, the inherent sadness; it must find new topics on which to muse.

When I think of you I shouldn’t feel doubt, no, my mind should be as my heart. It too should feel the driving need, the confidence, the certainty, it too should ache like fire when we part.

Should I accept that I have mixed emotions, that there are parts of me morality calls wrong? Should I pay attention to these traits of mine, the ones that when you beckon, begs me not to follow along?

I hold things inside me which are not pure or beautiful, desires and darkness and twisted wants. These things you cannot satisfy, in fact, you combat them on every front.

Should then I strive to ignore and erase these traits of mine, that some might think impure? Or should I embrace who I fully am, get rid of you, and let these traits endure?

For I do not think both can exist, there is no middle ground or compromise. It is you or them, me or you, I think that I must choose a side.

Never will my faults play with yours, never will my avarice for life hold hands with your purity or self-right. Never will you accept my darkness, never to live with my faults, you could never live any life but yours, that the life of light.

So now the questions ramble on, each an elaboration on a theme. It seems that I must choose soon, I must choose who I will be… I must choose to become you, or choose to stay true to me.