Dear Universe,
I am so tired.
Not the kind of tired that sleep fixes.
A deeper kind.
The kind that lives in my bones.
I've been holding everything together for so long.
That I've forgotten what it feels like to be held myself.
Everyone leans on me.
And I let them.
Because that's who I learned to be.
The strong one,
The steady one,
The one who manages.
But underneath the managing.
I am worn thin.
I've been pouring from a cup that ran dry a long time ago.
And just kept pretending it was full.
So today.
Just for a moment.
I want to put it down.
All of it.
The way.
The Rose,
The endless quiet effort of being everything for everyone.
Help me to remember that rest is not failure.
That stopping is not quitting.
That I am allowed to be a person,
Not just a function.
Remind me that I don't have to earn my place here by being useful.
That I am allowed to need things too.
To be tired.
To ask for help without apologizing for the asking.
Take some of this from me.
The part I was never meant to carry alone.
Let my shoulders come down from my ears.
Let my breath go all the way to the bottom of my lungs.
I don't have to hold the whole world up today.
The world was holding itself up long before me.
And it will keep doing so while I rest.
So let me rest.
Let me be soft.
And let me trust that the things I sat down for an hour will still be there.
And that I made them stronger.
Once I finally let myself breathe.
Amen
