My footsteps fell heavily against the carpeted floor as I stumbled the last few steps towards the bed, too tired to reach my arms to catch myself as I let myself fall, face-first into it.
I was caught by soft blankets and a firm mattress, bouncing on springs that eventually let me settle onto them. It felt like bliss compared to being on my feet for so long—too long.
Resting my head on my pillow, I closed my eyes wearily. I can't keep doing this. I would've said it aloud had I the energy, but energy was one thing I had been lacking for a while. It was a deficit that never seemed to be filled, no matter how much sleep I got.
God, what have I done to deserve this?
The question rose, unbidden, and I found myself mortified if a little curious as to the answer. You don't question the Lord Almighty. His ways are holy, not of this world. No one can understand them. So why would you try?
But I was trying. I wanted to so bad. I wanted to just know why I had so much pain, so much weariness when I was trying my best.
God, how much longer must I fight? No one understands my pain.
Tears flooded my eyes and spilled out onto my pillow as lyrics to an old song rose to my mind.
"I can't carry this anymore. Heavy from the hurt inside my veins. I can't carry this anymore..."
Then an answer came to mind, almost as if it was my own thoughts, but I got the sense that it wasn't. That it was something more.
"I will carry you, my child. You have many more glories to come."
***
I Can't Carry This Anymore, Anson Seabra
Genre: Soft pop
Potential Triggers: wanting to die
Favorite Lyric: "I can't carry this anymore. Wonder what it's like to be okay."