I am tired. Very tired.
This morning, I was almost late to work; the bus was running behind. As to why, I don’t know.
And I don’t care.
Because seeing the bodies of a migrant father and his daughter, drowned in the Rio Grande River makes my problems look miniscule. Insignificant. Pathetic.
This is real. This happened. And I want to scream. Because there are so many people out there who are celebrating this.
My soul is tired. My heart is broken, too heavy in my chest. My spirit is spent. I am mentally, emotionally, and spiritually tired on a level I can barely begin to imagine, let alone measure.
I began mourning in November of 2016. I haven’t stopped yet.
I don’t know if I ever will.