My heart is so heavy of all the things that I haven’t said. Of all the things I wish I could’ve said but never did just because I was not strong enough to say it or simply because I know staying quiet would be better. It’s so heavy of being nostalgic, not of what happened but what could’ve happened. I’m tired. I feel broken. I’m drowning but there is no one to save me. What’s the point? I ask myself every day I wake up. What’s the fucking point? I’ve done the hardest thing I could’ve done in my life and everything else seems so boring because I know I will never encounter anything harder than what I’ve already faced. What’s the challenge? Everything thing just seems so dull. Is that all there is? I constantly ask myself. I hope it’s not.