What is it that hurts the most?

Is it the fall we make or the risks we take
On this journey through the wild wilderness of love?

Or is it our deepest secrets breathed life when truth of the heart become paramount;
Like a mountain who's summit is so high that the very image brings dread of pain?

Maybe it is the unknown uncertainty that certainly drives our actions to be the best we can be,
While the possibility of failure adds the weight of the world to shoulders unaccustomed to the shared desire for success?

Am I Atlas?
Are you?

It would seem these fears have a home rooted deep within the doubt we allow to enslave us,
That the mind can play cruel tricks in order to achieve some semblance of balance
Not unlike a see-saw teetering on the brink of touching the heavens or reaping hell

Such is the challenge of completion.

It is this work in progress that yields great pleasure at the sacrifice of the greatest pain; a fight for happiness founded on the acceptance of our greatest faults
Fought in order to see the inherent perfection in such complexity.

My greatest pain?

It's the fear of loosing the 'I love you' because you might want more.