When Push Comes to Shrug

Sometimes I push too hard. I force my will on the unwilling: the inappropriate joke, the disinterested blonde, the bad idea, the dos manos burrito—all too big for my britches.

Sometimes I shrug too easily. I falter instead of fight; the risky opportunity, the perfect flirt, the crazy idea,  the ambitions of whimsy—all so daunting when I'm weary.

Always, when push comes to shrug, my regret far outweighs my shame.

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