Me.

So many options... only one decision. What to do, what to do? I can get guidance but ultimately it’s up to me what I do. I’m the one responsible for me. I am my own. I am my sun, I am my rain. I am my biggest enemy and my best friend. I tear myself down and I build myself up. I have to live with myself at the end of the day. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask. I worry about me because I understand that at the end of the day, it’s me who decides what I do and when. I understand that at the end of this life – I’ll look back at what I did and didn’t do; what I said or didn’t say, but I won’t be pointing my finger at you. You should worry about you and don’t be concerned with me. You aren’t responsible for me; I don’t report to you, I don’t even really like you to be honest. You put your nose where it doesn’t belong and then wonder why I don’t give you the time of day? I don’t think so. Think what you want about me, judge me how you want, but at the end of the day your opinion doesn’t mean anything to me. You don’t define me. I do. I render you powerless. I call your bluff. What now? I decide. Me.