Enough

At what point in life do we say “enough”?

Not when we stumble through 7th grade, blooming through awkwardness and uncertainty, just enough to haunt us to the present.

Nor when we’ve had our heart broken, a cut so deep you never thought you’d recover and love just screams impossible.

Nor when we realize we’ve been systematically traumatized by the very system that protects us, when your family wrapped themselves around you so tight you can’t breathe. You can’t do anything or be anyone.

The worst feeling worked its way through me as I consciously feel time moving, chipping away my youth and opportunities, leaving everything in its decay. I lose myself going through the day, barely holding on, hoping for tomorrow, something just something to look forward to but nothing is and will ever be enough.

With the future so close and the presence so bleak, there can’t be anything good waiting for me. Everyone else gets to hold their shiny orb of hope and all I can see is doom.

Marriage? Family? As if those will ever make me happy.

Responsibility? Adulthood? I’m already tired, I just want a nap.

The very prospect of me, the spark, the little dim light that makes me “me” is gone now and forever.

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