I woke with ambition striding through me, but the pains of living brought me to a typical and pathetic still. I can’t seem to do anything right or anything at all these days.
It’s not laziness; it’s not that simple. It’s this overwhelming fatigue brought on by mounting personal pressures and chronic thoughts of you. I can’t seem to get you off my mind long enough to focus on anything else.
Thinking of you makes me tired to the point where all I want to do is pull the covers over me and forget about the world. I’d rather live in an imaginary world where you do exist, where our love exists, than in the sick reality that is so painfully void of you.
So instead of bringing myself to do anything, I found myself once again wasting time… missing you.