I am on the verge of self-discovery.
It's seems funny because I know I'm young,
and I shouldn't have this knowledge and burden,
but I carry it every day and ask myself why.
Now I think I know.
I am not here for love.
It is possible for some one to love me,
but I cannot love them back.
I am incapable of feeling love.
It does not seem to make sense
and I know that I will get a lot of doubt from this,
but in my head I think it is true.
I will never be in a relationship for my benefit as well.
Instead, I will carry my partner's worries
because that is my purpose in life.
I am not here to play a role in my family.
I watch them go on with their lives
and I can not disturb them with mine,
but I will always be there to listen and accept their misery
and take it as my own.
I am not here to be a hero.
I will never be one,
as my lack of ability to stand up for myself
and to help someone.
I take the pains of the people as my own,
and wear the burden on my own back.
In doing this,
I will always be pushed to the bottom.
It's the long, summer days I strive for.
Days spent relaxed in the hot sun,
when I don't have to be there for others.
I can let go of my body and become someone else,
a spirit, maybe,
a preacher of stories.
But when this is over,
I will go back to the daily trudge,
climbing up endless mountains
but refusing to give out.