It's like I'm in the middle of a raging river. One foot is on a sturdy, large rock right smack in the middle of the flow of water. My other foot is on another rock, equally strong, equally sturdy and yet, my body is turned towards a small, seemingly frail bit of stone barely within my reach.
I want to get on that stone for some reason. The sturdy rocks are calling me back, promising security and comfort, and yet there I am, reaching for that stone, and at the same time, unwilling to get my feet off those secure rocks. I want everything. I want to be safe from the raging waters. I don't want to fall in and drown, and yet I want that excitement. That risk. That adrenaline rush of almost tipping over the edge, but not quite.
And so I stubbornly keep my feet planted firmly on the rocks, but I still reach for that elusive tiny little plot of stone, shining, glimmering with the reflection of the water on it.
I am selfish.
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