I thought I could find them by pursuing my dreams–tangible, logical. And if I was smart enough, kind enough, safe enough, they would want to stay.
Every week I work until I break down. Every week I have to step back and accept I am not invincible.
Every week I face the fear of how fragile my measure of worth is. How often I fall short.
I’ve seen how cold, how jagged and empty I can be.
I am an automaton bolted to a desk, trying to fashion a human heart of paper and ink.
I watch my peers find each other, stay for each other, connect and commit in ways I have never known. Ways I have always tried to earn, but which always push me further away from that picture.
Half of me is married to my work, while the other half asks, “Aren’t I good enough yet?”
Not yet is forever the answer.
Not yet not yet not yet.
Which is just a nice way of saying no.
A/N: Some angst and uncertainty from a little bit ago, before a recent academic turning point which I’ll have to write about soon!