I feel like I'm suffocating under the weight of my own responsibilities. Every day, I wake up with a list of things I must achieve, things that feel too big for my two hands to handle. I have to renovate and build a home, not just four walls, but a place where my family can finally feel peace. I have two sisters whose marriages I need to arrange; they are getting older, and I can see the silent worry growing in my mother's eyes. My mother, fragile and aging, depends on me more than words can say.
And yet, beyond all of this, a fire still burns in my heart — the dream of doing my master's abroad in data science, to build a better life for us all. But that dream feels like a distant star because I also have my current job as a software engineer pressing down on me. My work pays the bills, keeps the house running; if I stop, everything around me will crumble. I am only 25, and I tell myself I have to accomplish all of this before I turn 27. Time feels like a rope tightening around my neck.
At night, when exhaustion and anxiety twist together inside my chest, all I crave is someone to talk to. Someone who would sit beside me, hold my hand, and say, "You're not alone." A woman who would give me hope when my own spirit falters, someone who would understand the war inside me, who would love me even when I can't find the strength to love myself. I try — I try to meet someone, but life plays a cruel joke. No matter how much I reach out, there’s no one within my circle. No one to catch me when I’m falling.
I don't want much. I just wish for someone to stay with me through these storms, to believe in me while I fix everything. And when the dust settles, I would marry her without a second thought. But even that small hope seems too big for me now.
Sometimes, in my darkest hours, I wonder: if I had been free of all these responsibilities, would I have lived differently? Would I have been brave enough to make the ultimate sacrifice and leave all the weight behind? I don't know. I only know that tonight, once again, I carry all of it alone.
Staring at the ceiling in the dark,
The weight of my world tearing me apart.
A home to build from broken stone,
A dream to give my family a home.
Two sisters waiting with aging eyes,
Their marriages slipping as each day flies.
A mother praying with trembling hands,
I am the pillar where this house stands.
A dream of a master's from abroad, lost in the air,
A future I can never seem to repair.
But trapped in this job, I must stay,
Each paycheck a reminder of dreams I can't betray.
At twenty-five, the clock runs fast,
I fight and fight, but how long can I last?
By twenty-seven, I swore I'd rise,
Yet the burden feels too vast, too wide.
No voice to whisper, "You're not alone,"
No arms to claim my heart as home.
I seek her still, that unseen light,
But loneliness answers every night.
I don't ask much — just someone to stay,
To believe in me when skies turn grey.
But even that hope has slipped away,
Lost like a ghost in yesterday.
And so I lie here, tired and dry,
With only my fading dreams nearby.
If no hand holds me through this fight,
I will commit the final sacrifice one night.
💔
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