outsider.

loneliness.
pain.
broken hearts.
bitterness.
hurt.
crying to fall asleep.
"smiling" to stay awake.
pretending.
it's all a game.
it's all an act.
who really knows, though.
who really cares to know.
who presses in, asking the difficult questions.
who is willing to give up their precious time.
to ask the questions.
to care.
to really KNOW someone.
to know me.
i'm fighting.
fighting to hold to precious words.
precious words that say "i will never leave you or forsake you."
but this fight is an uphill battle.
with lots of tears.
lots of fears.
and few who know it exists.
few know of my fight.
few who care of my fight.
everyone wants to assume i'm fine.
it's easier for them.
i'm the convenient friend.
but i hurt, too.
i'm not perfect, either.
i don't have all the answers.
i don't even have the answers for myself.
but does anyone ask?
never.
i'm learning that living a lonely life is difficult.
it's a daily battle.
a daily fight to convince myself that...i'm worth it.
i'm worth the fight.
i can barely even type those words without cringing.
i don't believe them.
i just want to sleep.
for a long time.
and wake up someday when i can actually make a difference.
i'm tired.
and not just physically.
i'm emotionally exhausted.
i'm physically exhausted.
i'm mentally exhausted.
i'm spiritually exhausted.
but do you know who knows that?
nobody.
i'm a vagabond.
a wanderer.
one who doesn't belong.
one who doesn't have a home.
because my home is far away.
it is with the broken.
the barefoot children.
the deaf students.
the homeless.
the hurting.
those who invest when they have nothing more to give.
they are my home.
i love my family, but sometimes i fear they don't understand me.
my heart physically aches for places i haven't been.
for people i haven't met.
for things i haven't seen.
i am an outsider.
i do not belong here.