I Don't Want To

I sat at the front of the classroom, facing an entire class of Year 3 students, guiding them on their revision.

My eyelids threatened to shut. My body threatened to shut down. Yawn after yawn escaped from my mouth.

I felt so tired.

I thought he would be all right, up and running in no time. Had so much hope for that as I helped spread the word on Facebook. His brother messaged me and said his thanks, and I gave him so much hope that he’d be okay.

I could only sit down with my mouth agape for a good hour as I arrived at school to that piece of news.

I don’t want to have to endure goodbyes that come way too early. But I understand all of us, at some point in life, would have to experience that.

And if that’s the case, I don’t want to forever linger in the dark, cold and gruesome moments that ever existed in the first place. We are so much more than that, so much more so, that confining oneself to a minute space of misery seems horridly ludicrous.

I don’t want to stumble upon you and constantly wonder about your degree of animosity towards me. I don’t want to have to put a label of an enigma, in bold, on you when we’ve once felt compelled to share our deepest, darkest secrets, with no fear of judgment and consequences. I don’t want to ponder about the possibility of facing your deliberate animosity should I ever decide to strike up a simple “hello”. I don’t want to endure your hostility that radiates ever so strongly whenever we’re having a conversation, ESPECIALLY after an emotionally draining day like this. I don’t want to have to feel like a donkey running around the field headless when I have been trying to figure out what my next step is for the past few months. I don’t want to feel as though you’re questioning my every single step forward, so much so that sometimes I wonder if taking three steps backwards would be a better option.

I know you’re brilliant. I know you’re fucking brilliant. You’re an enigma of a superiority that is jaw-dropping. You’re so many things I could never be and my parents would DIE for me to be. I know all of that. And most of the time, I would be okay with that. I’m done with feeling useless. I’m done with feeling inferior. I’m done with looking at you as though I’m a dwarf looking up at a giant, feeling like my presence is redundant and unnecessary.

And you’re probably  definitely going to read this and go “what a wimp” “you’re dumb and useless” or something of the sort.

I’m done. I want to move on. I WANT to move on.

I feel so tired. I don’t want to. I really don't want to.