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The Finish Line.

I slept late last night. My legs are tired, and my feet are aching, but I like it. Not the lack of sleep or the sweat on my forehead, but the exhaustion that comes from knowing I worked a little harder.

Sleep takes over easily when you’ve really worked. It’s not a choice; it just happens. A surrender. You wake up and do it all over again. You keep going, even when it’s tough because that’s what you have to do.

Even if you start knowing nothing, you’ll learn. Time will pass, people will remember and forget, and you’ll get better. You have to, right? It seems like you will if you’re consistent, but sometimes it’s hard.

Sometimes, consistency feels like a burden. It can be tiring, and the progress seems slow. It’s tough, but maybe that’s part of it too—the struggle, the moments when you want to stop but don’t.

Sleep is a brief escape. Is it all worth it when it seems so far out of reach? Maybe all of this amounts to something. The fact that I could have reached every step I am taking earlier does come to my mind. But I am here now. 

It takes time, but I am here now. It’s easy to wonder if it could have been different if I had started sooner, if I had known then what I know now. 

Maybe I would have had a different fate, but everything I was running from seems to meet me at the finish line. All I can do is prepare. And go with what comes my way. 

I will let myself walk there without knowing all the answers, uncertain and confused as I am. I move forward because I am uncertain. Because I don't have all the answers.


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