"I'm Tired".

We spoke once and I told you “I'm tired”. You jokingly said “all you do is sleep.” We laughed about it but the truth is I don't know how to tell you that I am not the 'take a long nap and feel better kinda tired'. I'm the kind of tired, that sleep can't make go away. The kind of tired where it feels like I'm carrying a boulder up an 80 degree mountain and everyday it just gets heavier. The kind of tired where it feels like I have been drowning in my own tears and I have been fighting to Keep breathing for what feels like too long i mean, should have learned how to swim by now, right? I don't know how to explain to you this kind of tired. I wish you understood I wish someone understood. But if you understood, it would mean you knew this kind of tired and I don't want you to know this, I don't ever want you to know this feeling of emptiness. I don't ever want you to wake up and not want to get up because the day feels like it'll crush you more than it did yesterday. I’m glad you don’t know this feeling. I just wish I didn’t either. But I do. So I’ll keep fighting to breathe until I learn how to swim. I promise, I will learn how to swim for you. I know that if I start to sink, you’ll start drowning too and I would never, ever, let that happen to you.