I Am Exhausted

Good evening, Sir.

I am exhausted. Yesterday, and the weeks leading up to it, have been so draining. I have so little left. But I am yours.

The echoes of worthlessness, selfishness, stupidity resound in my whole self. I do not feel that way, but I remember the feeling so vividly, I react as though it was real. It was real. My reality was so dark, so very small, for so long. I continued to function, going about my day, fulfilling my responsibilities, giving until there was nothing left. I was lost, barely existing.

I know I have changed, though I don't really know how. If you asked me, I couldn't tell you who I was then. I was incomplete, fractured beyond recognition. I only know I have changed because where there was nothing, there is now something. I barely know myself, but I know I'm there to be known.

Today I feel empty. Emotions, actions, thoughts, flitting through me, rather than coming from me, like a breeze through an open window. I am comfortable with the hollowness. The echoes have quieted and I'm at peace. But sometimes the tears come up unexpected. I don't feel like I'm crying. The heat in my face and tension in my throat register before I even notice the tears. The thought, the memory that prompted them has already floated on, and I have no explanation for my emotion.

I am broken, empty, but I am yours, Sir. Your acceptance of my fractured self has helped me heal like nothing else I've ever experienced.

I love you, Sir.