I have seen so much already. So many people, old and young, happy and sad, rich and poor. People fighting, no matter what it takes. People losing, no matter what lies ahead.
I have managed to get out so far yet I fear to break. And this fear is eating me, oh... I am the only bloody idiot who still holds it all. It's all built on me. Life of all these fragile, beautiful things lying on my shoulders.
And it's all fine, apparently, we laugh while sitting around the table, drinking rose wine sent directly from France and fine Italian Parmigiano. Seems fine, at least. It's not though. It's anything but bloody fine. And God, I'm so angry. For no matter what I say, it's all too much to tell anyone, even the closest ones.
So it goes, day after day. And it's still only my burden.