The new year has been a bust so far. Nothing has gone as I have planned, as usual. Am I used to it? Not at all. Is that okay? Eh.
I... I'm going to keep pushing forward. Life is falling apart again, but I need to keep trudging ahead. The negativity is waiting in the background, waiting for me to fall down and not get up, and instead, curl into fetal position and give up on the world. To turn my back and run away, like I usually do. Part of me wants to.
I'm so tired. Of heavy chains wrapped around my ankles and the tragedies of the world shoved roughly on my shoulders.
But I can't. I can't give up.
Not when the people I care about are falling apart as well. I need to stay strong and push forward.
I'm completely terrified of what's to come. A great part of me craves that comfort and security from another human being. I yearn for that compassion and understanding. I ache for those arms wrapped around me, so I can feel safe and okay. And on those days, I feel like I need those patient ears to listen and those softly spoken words of reassurance.
And another part of me scoffs at the thought of needing anything else but what I have.
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