Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

It feels like my world has fallen down around me. It all happened in a matter of about 48 hours, a little over a week ago, and I am having the worst time ever of trying to pick myself up and move on. I know that everyone feels this way sometimes. I've been watching friends and family go through it a lot recently. I just somehow thought that I was immune to it. I thought that for some reason, all the good things I'd been feeling and experiencing lately were impervious to such a fall. I put my faith and my trust into the people that I love, because that is the kind of creature I am. A stupid creature, apparently. A creature who has now given completely of herself, only to end up empty, with nothing left to give, and nothing to build myself back up.

And I thought this part was over. It all feels like some kind of demented child's game. Chutes and ladders for the grown-ups. Ring-around-the-rosy. Hide-and-seek. Only the rules are different, and no one is the winner. Everyone goes home hurt and crying and alone. Hearts and bones and spirits get broken. There is only enough energy to sleep and to cry. There is no resolution, only the half-hope, half-fear that the cycle will come around to good again, but that next time it will stay that way.

And most frustrating of all, is the realization that I might never be worth it. All that I am might never be enough to fight for. And that, dear friends, is the most heartbreaking feeling of all.