I'm tired—
tired of repeating a year
without a college to belong to.
Living at home without moving forward
feels heavier than people think.
There are those
whose lives are tougher than mine,
and in front of them
my worries feel small,
almost invisible.
The more I try,
the more things seem to slip.
Sometimes my courage runs out
before the day even begins—
before the exam hour arrives.
After my father's accident,
everything changed.
College slipped out of reach,
and now I don't even have the strength
to tell them
how pressured I feel inside.
I laugh, I act normal,
but sometimes it feels
like everything is falling apart quietly.
There are moments
when my thoughts scare me—
when my mind runs too far,
too fast.
But then my parents come to mind,
and I stop.
I stop myself.
I don't have the courage
to do anything that would hurt them.
If I suffer, it hurts them more—
and that truth keeps me here.
So I pray.
I pray that no sudden accident,
no serious illness,
no unexpected pain
ever touches them.
If pain must exist,
let it come to me,
but let it be manageable.
I am trying to end
this constant overthinking.
Still, for 24 hours a day,
these thoughts
keep knocking on my mind.
But I am still here.
Still breathing.
Still trying—
even on the days
I feel completely exhausted.
Sometimes I fear
that I will fall behind in my own life,
that my dreams will remain
only dreams—
never reaching the shape of reality.
Repeating a year is terrifying.
I am exhausted now,
truly exhausted,
tired in a way sleep cannot fix.
This was my decision—
to choose top university entrance exams
instead of a town college,
instead of an easier path.
So I cannot complain,
not to anyone.
And maybe that's why
even when I am tired,
I tell myself I shouldn't be.
But the truth is,
I can't stop anymore.
Even when I want to rest,
my mind doesn't understand how.
And sometimes I wonder
whether choosing this road
was right at all.
Then I remember
what someone once said:
"I have lost many things in life,
but I keep reminding myself—
we are not meant to take life
too seriously.
Life should be given another chance,
again and again.
And no matter what,
we should never quit our own life."
So I hold on to that thought.
Even when I feel behind.
Even when I feel tired.
Even when nothing feels certain.
Because maybe being behind
does not mean being finished.
Maybe it only means
I am still walking—
at my own pace.