Roots

You say you've started seeing somebody, that you are quite happy with the way your relationship is shaping. You tell me about all the cute things you want to do for him, and I listen.
That's wonderful, I say.
I know I should be happy for you. I think I am, actually. At least a part of me is, but...
I've gotten used to our intimacy. I like you.
We're not a couple and we're not just friends. But I was happy with our gray area. Does it always have to be black or white, friends or lovers?
I don't know if I can entrust my happiness and well-being to one person. It seems that instead I've chosen to lay my foundation somewhere else. So that I can be more stable, so that I can stand, I have been slowly growing my roots into different shades of gray.
Your heart.

Their hearts.

Mine needs it.
Today you've sent us back to the o so proper dichotomy.
You sever our link using the sharp end of your words, and suddenly my heart loses its balance.
I know I won't fall,

But it hurts.