I'm waiting. Just waiting to get home, into my room, close the door, fall into bed, and just let everything out that i kept in all day. That feeling of both relief and desperation. Nothing is wrong. But nothing is right either. And i'm tired. Tired of everything, tired of nothing. And i just want someone to be here and tell me it's okay. But no ones going to be here. And i know i have to be strong for myself, because no one can fix me. But i'm tired of waiting. Tired of having to be the one to fix myself and everyone else. Tired of being strong. And for once, i just want it to be easy. To be simple. To be helped. To be saved. But i know i won't be. But i'm still hoping. And i'm still wishing. And i'm still staying strong and fighting, with tears in my eyes. I'm fighting.
