I’m tired.

My ChroBy now, everyone has told you that if you do your best, it will pay off. You’ll pass the test, graduate, be acknowledged and keep the job – it’s inevitable. It’s the golden rule of the universe.

All this is true. But, do you know what else is true? Shit happens.

And, sometimes, your tissue is not enough to wipe it all out.

“We’ve tried everything we could, but we can’t keep you in this job. We can’t afford to pay you. As it is, we need to figure out where to go from here financially.”

Daunting words from my boss, after just three months.

So, how am I going to explain this? The number of people who love my scars doesn’t even reach five – people want me to inspire them, to be a catalyst and to be happy. I’m not supposed to break. I’m not the girl who should be clouded by disappointment after disappointment. I don’t know how to communicate that. How do you transition from “I think my life is coming together,” to “please, hold me, I am shaking here.”

You don’t.

You go to the Ladies, cry, call a friend, and promise yourself that you will be strong. And then, you go to the office and you do the complete opposite.

Shit, you don’t “got this.” It’s too much. Your tears are fighting for their existence.

“This will cleanse your soul,” they tell you.

“Not now,” you tell them.

They don’t care, obviously.

You’re gonna be fine.

I know.

It’s not the end. You’re strong.

Am I?

You’ll bounce back.

But, I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of hoping – I just want things to happen and to last. I’m tired of being spoken to like I’m not positive enough or trying hard enough. Fuck you, shit happens! I’m tired of feeling like a big fat inconvenience to the world. Massive and invisible at the same time. Why can’t I just get my big break? What does God want me to do, huh? Sell my fucking pussy at Nugget Street? I’m tired of having groceries in my hands, walking in the rain from a shopping mall with no one to help me. I’m tired of being stranded. And, I’m tired of people not being here when they promised they would. I’m tired of looking, I want to find things too, and keep them. I’m tired of people glorifying the heartbeat. God dammit! I’m tired of being here, alive and breathing. That’s it. I’m tired.

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