The news is never good for me, it seems. Each test brings turmoil and confusion, with each result chipping away at my resolve. To say I’m disheartened would be an understatement, I feel like a boxer down 5 rounds, eye swollen shut, mouthpiece full of blood. This wasn’t supposed to be my life, this isn’t the destiny Geraldine whispered to me over bible verses. And yet, here I am. I am weak, and so very weary, but I cannot rest.

I’m tired of doing this. That’s the truth. I’m over the financial burden, through with all the needles. I’m finished. But I cannot stop…

This is the part where I’m doing it for all of you, I guess. I’m going to fight for my mom, because a mother shouldn’t bury her child, and she doesn’t need that. I’m continuing for my lady, because she has a future with me in mind, and I couldn’t leave her lonely. For Chris, who’s lost too many friends to lose another so soon. I do this for my little cousins, because I was told, once, that I carry this burden to keep it from them, so that they can go farther. Almost altruistic, I know.

I’ll fight for all of you who I call “friend”, or “brother", or “family”, because it’s you who matter… Its you who make this struggle worth it, both near and far.

I’ll fight for “Miami”, and “Vegas”, and “Wyoming”, Canton, Cleveland and Akron…

I’ll just fight.

I’ll fight for Mack, and W.A.R, and so that I can see my own babies grow. I’ll fight to the death, because I have no other choice. I just can’t do it for myself, anymore… I’m sorry.