I have been through so very much in my life. So much. Tragedy. My life is soaked in tragedy and shades of bleakness and horrors beyond imagining. My aura, if such things exist, is probably black with grief and unshed tears and all the things I will never discuss and all the things I wish could be undone. But I just kept going. No matter what. I just stood up straighter and doggedly continued forward with a determination to find a better day.
Right this second--as I type this--I quit.
I lay down my arms.
I'm done. I'm done for. I'm done in.
I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of hoping. I'm tired of wanting. I'm tired of wishing. I'm tired of being tired.
I don't want to stand up straighter. I don't want to keep moving forward. I don't want to do anything but lay in a broken puddle upon the floor and sob until I can't breathe anymore.
That's what I feel like right now. I have reached my breaking point.