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So I’m supposed to be this badass who can absolutely hold her own due to the fact that I’ve worked so tough to get here. I’m expected to be powerful and sharp. I’m expected to be strong and be a fighter. In my weak minutes, I’m expected to be difficult adequate to pick myself back up. I’m expected to cheer myself on. I should not require to rely on anyone. And how attempt I ask deep space to supply me somebody, with that anybody. But God, do I desire to.Exhaustion doesn’t even describe what I’m experiencing and I can feel the farthest walls of my mind breaking. It’s becoming so hard to avoid breaking. I understand that I’m gon na break one day, all the little pieces of me are going to fall and it’s gon na hurt like words can’t even explain. I’m not scared of falling. I’m not scared of the bruises or scars that I’ll find or

how quick gravity is going to pull me. I’m not afraid of how hurt I’ll be or the length of time it’ll require to recuperate. I’m afraid that I’m still supposed to, no, I’m still anticipated to be strong enough to get up and keep walking. I can’t ask somebody to hold me. It looks like I ‘d be asking for the world if I did that, like I ‘d be requesting for so much. I’m not expected to require someone to hold me.But I simply wish to be held.As I rest on the cold wooden flooring, my head in my lap as I hug my knees, the world gets so dark. And there’s no light to assist me towards a direction out. No escape hatch, no fire escape; absolutely nothing to understand. Black. For a flash, it’s comforting to be devoid of anything that makes me feel. A method to exist without armor. It feels like the world does not require me, no one I understand requirements me, that I do not require me.The option comes to me so easily.Then, I hear the pat of little feet. And the jingling of light metals versus each other. I gradually liftmy tear-filled eyes and a little shake the hair out of my face to discover two brown eyes looking at me. “Hello Tumble,”I whisper.” Hello there finest friend, “he licks.And I bear in mind that this little person needs me. This whole, tiny little world of a being would miss me. He ‘d lay beside door waiting on it to open, to be welcomed by everybodyelse however the one he’s waiting on. He ‘d search for at my bed for hours waiting for hands to

pick up him and position him beside warmth. He ‘d lay next to the couch and wait for me to scoop him up and smell his paws. No one loves the Tostitos chips odor of his paws like his good friend does. As I fall under a rest, I remember I’m the someone he requested when he believed he had no one.