Weekend shifts.
Holiday projects.
No vacations.
No relationships.
No social life.
Work.
Sleep.
Repeat.
I thought I was surviving.
Maybe I was just hiding.
“You were carrying everyone,” she continued.
“That’s what adults do.”
“No,” she said gently. “That’s what exhausted people do.”
I stared at the floor.
She squeezed my hand.
“Every month you brought me a check.”
