erulaiF

I used to try.
I did.

I would try with every ounce.

To be normal.
To be understood.

Inevitably I would fall short and fail.

The efforts toward any good thing always undone by the weight of every resulting bad thing.

Eventually I came to see, I would never be the expected.

I would never be the norm.

I would be mostly dismissed and misunderstood.

I would be barely needed and rarely wanted.

But...
I began to understand that I would without question, always fail, no matter how hard I tried.

The greater my efforts to succeed, the greater the resulting failures.

The one thing I was certain never to fail at was failing.

So I began to question what exactly failure meant and how it was measured.

And...
Once I could accept that, well then I was set free from the burden of even trying.

Because...
There was no longer any reason, outside of my own desire or conviction, to be anything more or less than what I was for myself, now that I knew what I would always be to others.

Failure...
It's really not the worst thing that could happen.