I've stood my ground for you.
I've been strong for you.
I've pushed aside my personal happiness and adopted yours as my own.
I've fought. Harder than I have ever fought anything before. I've worked harder than I have ever worked before. I've tried harder than I have ever tried before.
And I have been successful. I have been bigger. I have been a conqueror. I have seen the top of the mountain and the view was incredible. But I have seen the river in the valley and I want to dive in. I want to be allowed to get in the water. Other people are allowed to. Why am I denied that? I don't want to stay in the water. I just want to jump in, get wet, and get out again.
Now, I'm ready to give way. I'm ready.
I'm ready to collapse. For my hinges to snap and my support beams to sever. I'm ready to collapse and to exist, broken, for just a few minutes. If only a few minutes of not trying to be strong, for me, for you, or for anyone else.
But the net won't break. The net won't snap. The net won't split open wide enough for me to fit through. But I think about cutting the ropes. I think about it but I'm too scared to actually do it. So I don't. I take safety in my safety net. I watch television in the net. I act like a kid in the net. I act like an adult in the net. (Don't confuse the net with the Sandra Bullock movie...not the same net)
So I'm stuck. Waiting to break. To collapse. Entirely unravel. And I will wait.