I’m sorry to everyone I’ve hurt before. Sorry for not becoming the person you could be proud of, for leaving work unfinished while the expectations around me only grow higher. How can one man be too much and yet never enough at the same time? How do I stop the hurt, not only in my own heart, but in the scars I leave behind on others? It’s overwhelming, this fear of losing it all. I imagine the castle I’ve built crumbling once again, the story of my life replaying with the same unhappy ending. No matter how hard I try, it never seems to be enough. I climb toward dry land only to be pulled back into the current. Sometimes I feel I’ve wasted the most important years of my life, sitting still, watching time slip through my fingers. Seconds into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into years, all fading into distant memories. My indecisiveness isn’t from fear of choosing wrong, but from never really having a choice at all, just making do with whatever I’m handed. I’m exhausted. I push myself past my limits for reasons I don’t even understand anymore. I want perfection, even if it’s impossible. I want to be the best version of myself for the one who needs me. But how can I be who you need when I can’t even be who I want? I don’t even write anymore. It’s like the pen has finally run out of ink.