That Uncertain Feeling

So, you see a golden fleece, snagged, hanging fire, luminescent and inviting on a fence of barbed wire. Would you take it to your heart, grasp it, reach for it, or recoil for fear of laceration, of pain, of expectation deficit? Here lies the timeless dilemma: if love does gloriously bloom, will friendship bite the dust, consigned unto it's doom? In this paralysing conundrum there lies my golden fleece, a prison of uncertainty with no sign of release. How can we be sure in resolve we can defeat it? If we can have the cake and ultimately eat it?