I am at war. I am outnumbered. The two people I am supposed to care about most are on the opposite side of the line. I have tried hard to forgive. I have tried hard to forget. But I can’t find it in my heart to let it go. Every day is a struggle, but I have a temporary escape. I guess I am lucky for that. Sometimes I think it is others causing my pain. It is only when I am forced to face them again that I realize who my true enemies are. I have tried again and again to escape, but we are attached. Attached by a chain, with a lock on the end that only they posses the key to. I feel like a child. Like they are towering over me. I try again and again to talk to them, tell them how it is, but something else always gets in the way. Most of the time, it is the third person in the war, who hasn’t decided what side they’re on yet. Most of the time it seems like he is decided. Decided against me. But sometimes, I have a faint sliver of hope, that he will come to me. We are bonded by blood, and by brotherhood. There is somebody else in the war that also hasn’t decided yet. I find sometimes there is a war inside my own body, deciding who I want to be. I want to get away from these people, so that I can start on a clean slate; discover my true being. I have tried to find allies. Nobody seems to want to help me. I am alone, stranded on an island of people who would rather throw me into the ocean for the sharks if it weren’t for that chain. That darn chain.