I'm the solid rock. I'm the one who stands there for everyone else, anchoring everyone else down. And I wouldn't have it any other way. And yet . . . it's draining.

Part of me just wants to be fought for. To have someone else stand for me finally. I don't want to have to stand strong.  And yet . . . I wouldn't really let someone do that for me.

I get so frustrated. People can be so stupid sometimes. Sometimes I hate people. Want to be alone. And yet . . . I hate being lonely.

Sometimes I wish that people didn't count on me to come through. I wish that I didn't have to be Superman. And yet . . . I wouldn't know what to do if I wasn't.

I guess I wasted so much of my childhood in my attempt to be liked that I finally decided that enough was enough. I would rather be a silent hero than a nobody who everyone kind of likes. And yet . . . here I am, talking about trying to be a hero.

I pour everything into that dream. Save lives, bring love, spread smiles. And yet . . . where does it end?

I don't know.

I guess I'll just give until I'm in my grave and then I'll give a little bit more. I wouldn't be me if I weren't endlessly trying to live up to perfection.