It’s hard.

Actually, no, it’s not hard. Saying that would be an understatement. It feels like the world is ending. Sometimes, the feeling can be excruciatingly painful. It’s really burdensome on me. It’s so difficult, at times I feel like I’m walking on needles.

I just want to close my eyes and sleep. Just long enough for this to be over. Because when I sleep, at least I can dream.

But I know better. Even if my mind is set on giving up, I can tell my little heart doesn’t share the same sentiments.

Deep down in my heart, I don’t actually want to give up.

It’s conflicting, because everytime I feel like I’m set on giving up, I just can’t utter the words. As if I’m magically bound not to complete the phrase.

I just can’t give up. It’s in my blood not to. As if my heart circulated the belief through my veins. And I let the optimism fester in me.

What I really want is just to see the reward. But I can’t. Not until I show my efforts.

Because even dreams can become reality.

I want to try even when I’m drenched in sweat.
I want to make an attempt even when my tears have formed a river.
I want to strive even when my muscles beg for me to put an end to their suffering.

I want to persevere.


Photo: symphonyoflove on Pixabay.com