4/20/2023

I keep wishing he would have shot me. I’ve had this fantasy for as long as I could remember. It wouldn’t be so bad. It’s never scared me. Death isn’t suffering, living is. I fixate on what it’d be like…. *click*. The yelling stops. It’s not so loud anymore. Least, that’s what I’d hope it’d be. If I’m truly honest, this indifference is a fantasy.

I’m exhausted. I’m told over and over it’s supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be hard and tiring. I’m not special or any different in my response to this suffering. However, I don’t think this was supposed to be my life. I don’t think shit just went wrong, over and over again. I also think I’m a good liar. Where people find or see the strength in me is beyond me.

I’m exhausted.