Layers, Donkey

It's been a long and tiring day.

I tried my damnest. I tried to hold it all back, but it is threatening to spill out, a dam waiting to burst.

Come on, I thought to myself. You're stronger than this.

It was getting a bit much. I'm in the kitchen, and I am trying to help my grandmother. But it seems just like everything else: the more I try, the more I fail.

I stopped momentarily, hoping that the pause will give me respite.

It didn't. If anything, it feels worse.

The closer I get to the core of the issue at hand, the heavier the tears felt. Now it's on the outside, no longer a metaphorical river, but a literal flow of unconstrained proportions.

I can't hold back.

I went to the sink, and washed my hands thoroughly, making sure that there are no bacterial residues. I want nothing more right now than to bury my face in my hands.

Bloody onions.