's

ying to push through the exhaustion creeping up on me. It's always like this. The days run into each other, a mix of work

, and I just haven't been paying attention. The peeling paint, the cracked windows, the weeds creeping up the sides of the steps all thi

y nose. It's the smell of my life, disorganized, chaotic, and stuck in a perpetual state

turned to some infomercial that's been looping for hours. He's always leaving it on, no matter how much I tell him to turn it o

re's a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the leftovers of some quick meal he couldn't be

louded with the thoughts of everything I haven't done yet. The bills. The

else fades away. The noise, the pressure, it all quiets when I'm cleaning. Maybe it's because I'm in

es squinting as they adjust to the light. He groans softly, rubbing his face like he's just woken from a nig

eping my back to him as I fi

oice thick with sleep. "Did

ing for money again, and I've been putting it off. Not because I don't want to help him, I a

to face him. "We've ta

es full of frustration. "I'm not asking for

th him. He thinks it's just a small favor, one more thing I can give

oice trembling slightly. "I've given you everythi

nd I can see the anger simmering beneath his tired eyes. He runs a hand through hi

spits out, his voice laced with bitterness. "Y

the weight of what I'm carrying. He doesn't understand that I'm running on empty emotion

my voice tight with emotion.

if you actually cared about me, you'd help me out more. But no, you

econd, I wonder if I can keep it together. But I don't yell. I don't throw a fit. Inste

most a whisper. "But you need to start taking respons

spond, feeling the weight of the conver

ething under his breath, but

the door behind me with a little more force than I mean to. The world feels too

need to