The Battle of Pride and Commitment

There is a lot of weight behind the word Fine. Maybe it is laced closely with that of Pride. I can do it my own. Do not suggest, or hint, or pry, or prod. I will figure it out. Fine. But I think Fine can tire to its own death eventually. And what are we to do about it? Use it until exhaustion? Add weight to its neighboring equivalent? Perhaps we pair it with something else to alleviate wear, string a balance, root its core. Maybe that something is Commitment. It could very well be Fine is a battle of Pride and Commitment. Pride of independence, accomplishment, and seemingly success; and Commitment to achieve it all to Fineness. But what happens when Pride wins out in excess and falls the beholder? Or when fear scares away Commitment? And where does Fine fall between the two? I am Fine, on top, and falling. I am Fine, and scared, and failing. Are we ever steady? Maybe this equation never properly computes, and maybe that is the way of life. Maybe we are all just Fine and carefully covering the battle behind it all.