Lately it's been so quiet. I've been so tired. Sick. I have tasks to do, errands to run, yet I feel held back. To some point I feel like I could break away from what ties me down and controls me (parents, fear, words of discouragement, etc) but I'm afraid that whether or not I live to tell the story, I would still feel the same way about it.
Like something's missing.
This causes me to put other things in life on hold. Even the things I need the most, from sleep to someone who cares. And I can't have them until I've done what I have to do. Not that I don't want to do it. It's just not that time yet that it's supposed to feel right. I only have one chance. The clock's ticking. But then again I don't think there even is a right time. People just dive into things and hope for the best. Don't we all?
I don't like how I pretend to go about my days like I'm okay. Going to work with a fresh face, responding to everyone who says hi to me, smiling, talking, working. Wearing a 'mask'. But that's how it's supposed to be. Can't complain.
To some point I'm still okay. There are certain things in my life worth fighting for and they are the reason I'm not calling it quits. Certain things and people that I would do anything for just so I could see them smile.
Then my work is done.