I was in this by myself. I supposed that someone might have cared or understood…but experience made me doubt that. No, it was me…alone.
But I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t strong enough to go it alone – or with anyone else for that matter. It was all just… I was juggling too much; I had taken on too many things. Something was going to give – namely, me.
“No, just hold on,” I told myself, “It’s not much longer now.” I wasn’t sure if that was truth or a lie. At this point it was just something I said. I had no idea how much longer I would have to hold on. Months…years?
I wasn’t built for this. I could feel my feeble arms, not as strong as they were in my youth, begin to sag.
“Stay strong. Stay strong. Stay strong.” My biceps were burning. My hands were tired, aching. I could just let go. Let it all drop. Let the world fall down around me. Would it be so bad?
“Would it be so good?” I asked myself. I imagined what would happen if I wasn’t in control…of everything. I reminded myself that the theory had already been tested. “Didn’t work out so well, did it?” I chided myself. No, it hadn’t. Things…happened. More importantly, things didn’t happen. I hated being out of control.
But this was different…worse. The constant carrying, juggling…it was making me hate myself. I hated the person I was when I was responsible for so much. Angry. Tired. Stressed. High strung. Irritable. Short tempered.
My head was still telling me to hang on. Adamantly. “You didn’t come all this way….do all this work…to quit. You just hang on!”
I had a point. Letting go would mean failure.
“Do you want to be a failure? Haven’t you done enough of that for one lifetime?” I hung my head. Why did I always have to drag the past into it? “Forget I mentioned it,” I told myself. “Just hang on. Hang on!” My arms were tired. I was tired. I could feel my shoulders collapsing. “No!” my conscience yelled.
I heard the metaphoric crash.
Then there was silence.