Tonight, I am tired. I am buried in grief and pain and loneliness. I know that I will be better. I know that I am strong and resilient. And I know that I will be better. After all, I'm a fighter.
But sometimes, tonight included, I don't want to be better. I am tired of fighting.
I want to just lay down and let the pain swallow me whole.
I don't want to be resilient.
I don't want to be strong.
I want to just give in to the sadness and anger.
I want to quit trying. I want to be content in misery.
I wish I could lay down and give up.
I wish I could welcome resentment and bitterness with open arms.
I wish I was content to let this grief swallow me whole.
But I'm not. And I can't.
So tonight, I will take a hot shower and crawl in bed.
And like it or not, I will try again tomorrow. It's in my blood. In my soul. A gift from Jocelyn, no doubt.
Like it or not, I will fight again.
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