more

So much coursing through my veins, so much emotion and pain. But I'm not meant to feel sadness, I'm meant to feel guilt - this is MY fault. I've done this, I've forced this. So I don't dare cry, don't dare show my face of contorted disbelief - this is my fault. And we will forget about the days and weeks and months that lead up to this, we will put that somewhere in the back, let it sit and sink in. And what am I suppose to do now? What is left in this pile of rubble and ash and destruction? Everything has been said and sorted and acknowledged. But somehow here we are right at the beginning again and nothing seems to make a difference. I don't want to fight it, I want to fight for it. I want to know that something will come of this. But I am worn so thin, so barely making it through the day. And for what? I say I want to fight for it, but I'm not certain I know what I'm fighting for anymore. There is so little time, only a whole life time ahead... and the days go so quickly. Look at that boy. LOOK at him. You and I created such an incredible human being - such a force, a beauty. And it took everything out of me. And it will continue to take everything - and every turn that I could take looks so bleak, so bland and undesirable. I promised myself that I would NEVER let it come to this again, never let my path get so narrow and nauseating. I tried so hard, fought with every ounce of energy I could reserve - and still, it was not enough. I wonder when I will know how to admit this is not just my fault.