Somewhere there, between her beginning and her end, she got tired. It wasn’t the usual kind of tired. It wasn’t the empty kind of tired. She just came to a point where being tired was all she knew.
She’d dreamed big enough for the world but was without resolve. It was there in her middle where she got tired. It was there where she seemed to run out of reasons. She had reached the point of wanting to stop.
The horizon never changed. The constant dreaming had left her without hoping. Chasing became some norm that she had to come to terms with yet she didn’t know how to turn around. She never knew how to stop.
Synchronicity had found her too and she knew it. She had been paying attention all along. It was the constant reminder she’d been given to keep going, to continue on. But continuing on was what she had no idea how to do now.
It’s the chasing that turned into resentment that became the biggest part of anything weighing her down. The non-stop running after everything. She was chasing everything but it was somehow something that just kept haunting her.
It resided there, just outside of her. Taunting and relentless but she’d accepted its entire existence. She accepted it for what it was until questioning took up too much time. It took up all of her time.
She questioned everything. Anything with certainty eventually became uncertain. All anything became was nothing – every time.
She was lost. She had become some girl who just got used to waiting. When she’d gotten tired before, she’d rest. But now…now when she gets up again, she has no idea where to go. Instead of knowing which way she’d come, she no longer knew which way she was going.
Sometimes she had welcomed it, that feeling of being lost. Being lost brought things she never would have received otherwise. But most times being lost was what she hated.
So many things were taking up space within her yet she had run out of places to keep them. She’d come to a point where letting go was the only option. So, she did.
She let go.