Dear Push,

I am standing on the fence, teetering ever so precariously. I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting. I'm hoping you'll come and send me straight over the edge. There's only two sides of a fence. The problem is, that I want you to force my hand. I want you to choose which side I fall on. It's not fair, it's not logical, it's not right. But I still want it anyway. I can only balance for so long though. Gravity is pulling me down. Every passing second brings me closer to the edge. Sooner or later I'll come crashing down, but will you be there to catch me?