plural.

I always thought it would be nice, you know, to have more than one.  Not this one today, I'd like the other.  I am in the mood for this not that today.  Today this one please me and not that one.  Passing over this one for that one because that one seems better today.  Flitting from one to the other like a butterfly or busy-bee.

It's always that way, you know.  When you've only got one (or none) you wish and wish to have another.  How nice it would be to have a choice, you say, and not to feel like you're settling or too fill-in-the-blank to merit more.  If only I could have chosen and not been chosen.

But now.  Now every way I turn I am met by choices and I find I do not like it.  The grass is always greener on the other side, until you step over the fence.  Each "choice" demands and asks and requires an answer.  I am a whirly-top, a spinny-gig being tossed back and forth.  I turn here and there and lie restless in my bed.

Say yes, they said.  It's that simple.  Nothing will go wrong and all will be roses and sunshine.  Alas.  They were wrong.  It's that simple.