Tired.

I left the house today.
I left with my luggage. 
And now I'm here hiding inside some ugly room in some godawful street.

Long ago, when I would try to leave, my husband would always prevent me from going. Now, he didn't even care. I know he doesn't. He hasn't cared for a very long time now. He probably was even relieved to be rid of me.

Once upon a time, I found a kind man and married him. Now, I am married to a cruel man, with no love or kindness in his heart for me.

He told me I shouldn't come back if I left, and I left anyway. Better me leaving than being left behind one day. It is going to happen. The children will leave. My husband will leave. I'm not loved. Nobody cares for me. Nothing I do is ever good enough. And they will all just leave me.

I am just another Sisyphus... destined to keep pushing the boulder, paying for my crimes over and over until I die. And never seeing the light at the end of it anyway.

I am never going to be good enough. They may say they need me, but I am not loved nor cared for. 

I am tired of doing my best, and knowing I will never amount to anything anyone expects me to be. 

I'm replaceable.
I'm worthless. 
I'm tired.
I'm done.

I'll just continue to hide until death comes.