A tear rolls down my cheek. “I’m tired.” Tired of the loyalty that has taken everything I care about. Tired of standing by while happiness finds its home elsewhere. But most of all, I am tired of losing her. Then there is now—when I cry for the future I so badly wish to live with her. It’s a silent stream of tears that I try my best not to acknowledge. I take a shuddering breath before swiping at them roughly. “Don’t let her be your weakness.” Mother’s warning came far too late. She is not only my weakness—she is my everything.
