As I stand at the door and knock, he tells me to do otherwise. I turn to leave; however, he won't let me.Will I stay? Will I abandon this person whom I care for, for another? Unwillingly, I have split myself.

I now ponder the reality of it all. Not which door to open, but which to close. That is the question. For who am I? Am I the very man I advertise not to be? Or something much more than that?

For she is like a sweet, white Lily; however, she is like a sweet, red rose. Both alike in nature, yet different in the senses.