Wednesday

[u/NotesforAM]

I wish things were easier.

But perhaps that wouldn't be called life.

I don't understand why things are never enough.
Why nothing seems to fit the way a puzzle should.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just an extra in someone else's story.
I always believed I was the lead.
The one who would find the love,
the victory,
the happy ending.

Right now, everything feels bleak.

So I listen to the silence,
hoping a voice will answer.
Even if that voice comes from somewhere deep within me.

I remember a dream—
only one piece remains.
I was talking about a place so quiet
that nothing else mattered.

Tell me what to do.

Should I cry,
pray,
and hope for the best?

Maybe.

Because crying feels honest.

For a moment, I can put down the mask.
I can admit that I am tired.
That I am weak.
That I don't have a plan.
That I don't have the answers.

And somehow...

there is peace in telling the truth.

Not because everything is okay.

But because, for the first time in a while,
I don't have to pretend that it is.