I have my days.
Once upon a time, when life's heaviness wasn't yet realized, there was only one day. One type of day. Every day. I just... was. BE. Is. whatever.
Now. I have the days. Ones when nothing could go wrong because everything is already at its worst. Ones where everything is as it should be. Ones where my mind is completely disconnected. Ones where I'm too emotionally involved. I've noticed the difference by now. And some days are still to be discovered.
Expectations. Too, too many. Too many to be able to slow my life down. I can't quit. I never will. I always go; always move. forward. Or so I'd like to think.
Rest. The one thing that battles with the expectations. How can I satisfy both? It's a delicate balance, one that's difficult to manage, and in itself causes stress.
Needy. Weakness. But only in relationships, he says. Because I still must balance the expectations. Mustn't use weakness to my advantage.
Rescue. It's the only word I can think of lately. It's everything I want. But the only thing I'm not sure how to get.

and the daily demands of life are at it again.