We’ve always been taught:

“Things have to get worse for them to get better.”

Or

“The sun is warmer after the rain”

Or something similar to that.

What they don’t mention is that the good part is often cut short and is never fulfilling enough to compensate for the darkness.

The darkness lasts to long.

When do I give up?

Does it ever stop?

I can’t fight for the rest of my life. This isn’t living.

You can survive all you want but your not living.

•••

“Just keep going. It will all work out in the end.” I empathetic smile warms her face. I look up at her, still on my knees.

“Better?” I laugh. It’s a dark sarcastic sound. Her smile weakens, concern starting to fill her eyes.

“I’ve been _going_ for years now.” I stand, towering over her.

“How much longer? Hm? Am I on the verge of success or will I _keep going_ for the rest of life.”

She stumbles back as I step closer to her.

“How do you know it gets better?” I sneer and turn to leave.

“Calm down! Don’t be so dramatic. Your not the only one with challenges.”

…

I freeze in my tracks.

“Dramatic?” My voice is cold and sharp.

“It’s honestly not that big of a deal-“

I laugh, cutting her off. The laugh stings my eyes and squeezes my throat, the world turning into a swirl of darkness. She hesitantly walks closer, placing a gentle hand on my back. I smack her hand away, whipping around to face her.

“WHY. WHY IS IT NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL?

BECAUSE ITS NOT A BIG DEAL TOO _YOU_? I WOULD ASSUME ITS NOT A BIG DEAL TO YOU SEEING THAT YOU NEVER PAY ATTENTION TO ME!”

A swirl of emotions coat her face at the sudden outburst.

“O- of course I care.” Her face melts to pity and concern.

“Liar.” I take a slow step back.

“You only care about _her_ and whatever _she_ needs.” I walk away, slamming the door behind me.