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Moribund Devotion, Epilogue 

I’m done with contributing to the enrichment of other peoples lives and efforts to make their day to day easier or more enjoyable.  They aren’t providing anything in return much less anything of value or substance.   Yet they gladly take anything they can from me knowing that I’m depleted not just materialistically but also physically, mentally and spiritually.   Why should I permit them to take what is non existent?  I shouldn’t have to seek out and fetch help when I’m all but drowning them in the tears I shed while screaming out a very detailed list for help.  

It must be nice to gallivant through life not having to worry about anything while people like myself carry them on our backs that are broken while trying to stay upright with two broken legs, all while they complain about the experience without any discomfort or actual inconvenience.  Even a master horticulturist grows weary of their own garden when it demands every resource but doesn’t bare any semblance of a yield. 

They will be the first to comment “he didn’t really do that much” when he dies of exhaustion; or worse, say “I never expected him to do this” when he can’t give anymore and take his life when he decides to be selfish for once in his life. 

I’m tired.  And for once in my life I think I’d rather be alone than in proximity to a vapid human being that’s taking up space and oxygen thinking their presence is somehow enhancing when in fact they are creating a vacuum that consumes the last microscopic bits of will to live that’s keeping me going, so far depleted I don’t even comprehend it’s existence.

Yet, because I’m such a people pleaser I can’t help but withhold these feelings from them because I don’t want to hurt their feelings, and will exhaust the last joule of energy that I possess to preserve their feelings. 

But soon, well preserved feelings will be wounded.  I will be alone in a grave darkness. There will be memorials that are attended by dumbfounded individuals who dug the graves.  Gardens will be abandoned as the world acknowledges its soul when it’s no longer there.  Then, people will look out for that familiar helping hand, maybe never realizing what happened; other than it’s no longer there.