Behold, the Two Doors of Hearts. 

Just like there are two kinds of hearts.

Behind each one unfolds a different kind of love. 

There are only two kinds of love anyway.

Do you pick the door of red because you like it or because of what you’ve been fed? Do you pick the door of red because of what you think about at the end of the day alone (or not alone) in your bed? Or because of that scent you’ll never get out of your head?

Or do you pick the door of black because you like it or because you want to go back? Do you pick the door of black because of the taste left on your tongue when you feel that connection crack? Or because of that fortitude you shun, the inability to stay on track?

So what’s the difference?

They say one of them will take work and test you in ways you will resent. You will hide parts of yourself. You will get comfortable with it and at times be ok with it but you will not live your life to the fullest.

They say one of them will almost always feel like home. It will be easy. You will not have to try. You will be true to all the disparate parts of you but you must be willing to ask for what you want.

Don’t worry they both will still bring you ungodly pleasure and unbearable pain. You are alive after all.

Go on now. What will it be?

It doesn’t matter though. The choice was never yours but always yours the same.