They’re ahead of us, they say. Better days are ahead of us.
But what if they’re not?
What if they’re behind us?
What if the better days really are behind us? Behind me?
Hopeless. Is that what that means?
I’m climbing the never ending staircase. I’m trying to get up the impossibly steep mountain I’m on.
But I keep falling down. Getting pushed off.
I don’t think I’ll ever reach the top.
Not without someone reaching down to help pull me up, anyway.
But it seems I’m on this journey alone. And I’m too tired to keep getting back up and starting over.