Tired, the Tender, and the Trying

There are days I want to turn it all off.

The overthinking.
The caring.
The relentless ache of trying to hold things together.

“Some stones are best left unturned,” they say  and maybe they’re right.
Because digging hurts.
Because sometimes what’s buried was meant to stay quiet.

But the truth is… I turn them anyway.
Not because I like the pain,
but because I care.

And honestly?
All this would be so much easier if I didn’t.

If I could let things slide.
If I didn’t get caught up in what-ifs and should-haves.
If I could stop loving people who don’t always love me back in the way I hope.

But I do give a damn.
Maybe too much.
Maybe that’s my strength and my downfall.

Some days, I fantasize about escape.
“I long for the day when this is all over.”
Not in a dark way 
But in that deep sigh after a storm kind of way.

When the tension finally releases.
When the hard choices stop piling up.
When I get to exhale and just be.

But until that day…
I’m here. Still turning stones. Still caring. Still tired.

And maybe that’s enough.

Because underneath the weariness,
there’s something noble about the ones who keep showing up 
even when it hurts.