Even though it's hard to trust in a love that will let the rain fall down.

Where am I going?

I think that's the question I've been asking myself all semester. After all.

Where am I going? Slowly, one by one, my friends are all off starting their lives. And where am I going? Stuck. I am stuck. And the more I thrash about in the mud, the faster I sink down into it.

This isn't the hardest semester I've ever had. Not in the least. I vividly remember last spring, in that awful costume class. Literally getting 2 hours of sleep a night for a solid month and a half straight. Mawmaw was gone and mom was grieving and I was too busy going to a blasted theatre room to be yelled at every other day for things I didn't do. After struggling to stay awake and ignoring ovaries that were literally screaming at me and desperately doing anything I can to make... a C. That was the worst semester. That was the semester from hell.

No, no. This is not the worst semester. I only remember emerging last spring with the cemented conviction of the unmovable "I don't ever want to experience that again." And now I am.

I know I frustrate my cooperating teacher and my students, but I don't need to get yelled at every time I mess up-- I need help. I need sleep. I need rest. I need so many things. And I'm empty. Burnt out. Done. Enough. I don't know how to salvage what I apparently did so horribly.

Graduation is so far away. I'm sick of having to pay the price for idiots in registrar.

May is not coming.

Mom is grieving.

Dad is sick.

Michael is not moving.

And Pawpaw is new.

And I can't stand the thought of returning to my crumbling family empty handed.

I can't explain the depth of how much they have given. They pushed and pulled and carried and loved me through this experience. I've failed them too many times.

Where am I going?