It’s Sunday again. Truthfully, the only reason why I know this is because I’ve set a reminder to write for ON SECOND THOUGHT. This year has been a lot (we’ve been over this already), but this week has not been better.
I’ve been feeling tired lately. It’s a state of total exhaustion that doesn’t seem to go away no matter how much I sleep and it’s driving me insane. It’s the type of fatigue that comes like a full-on wave and takes you under before you get the chance to react. The kind that doesn’t ask for permission nor look you in the eye, but blindsides you from every single possible angle.
Every day, I wake up optimistic; ready to take on the world, ready to make something out nothing, ready to make the day my own. I set my alarm at the right time and I draw my plans out with ink to ensure they are tattooed on paper as proof, but by night time I’m staring at myself again wondering how I failed at everything again.
The war between me and Fatigue is relentless and merciless. Spoiler alert: I lose each time. She’s not a fair fighter and plays by no rules. She lets me get free for a little while, allowing me space to breathe, space to hope and map out what comes next. But she’s sly like that; once I feel like I might just be doing good without her, she kicks the door open and lets herself right in. She sits rather comfortably like a frenemy you didn’t invite to the party who walks around like she owns the place.
I’m not sure how she got in in the first place; did I let her in or did she come in disguise? Was I too foolish or was she too strong of an adversary? Will I lose or will I find a permanent key to the lock?
A new week is on the horizon; a fresh new seven days waiting for the taken. Will I stand up and take it? Will you?
Your restless romantic roamer
How are YOU, really?
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