Nobody told you it would feel like this.
The cracked skin, the clock-watching,
the counting of ounces like they are currency
you are always short of.

Nobody told you that love could feel
this exhausting,
this relentless,
this much like failure
even when it isn’t.

But here you are.
3am and still showing up.
Leaking and tired and googling things
no one should have to google alone.

Still here.
Still trying.

That is not nothing.
That is everything.

You can do hard things.
You already are.