You know, so much has been written on the virtue of perseverance. If you fail, try and try and try again...and eventually you'll get it, right? I often wonder if that works. Is it more virtuous to keep chasing after a dream even when you know that it is nothing more than smoke in your hands, or to retire from the stage with some semblance of your pride intact?
Sometimes you want to keep trying. Sometimes there's that little devious bit of hope in the back of head that tells you it's not over...there's still a chance. But there's nothing left inside. You have nothing left to give. There are only so many times that you can try, and try, and try. There are only so many things you can do...only so many things you can change. There are only so many times you can see that proverbial light, only to have everything come crashing down around you.
I'm tired. I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of convincing myself that I can do this, only to be faced with the grim reality. I can't. There is no absolution for me. Not even the strongest of acids can erase my sins. Am I really ready to accept that there are things I cannot change...hearts I cannot melt?
To give up means facing the truth. To persevere means to keep living in my own world. To give up means to stop believing that there is magic in a touch. To persevere means to keep the illusion alive. To give up means that I may yet retain my sanity, if not my heart. To persevere means my death...my body will live on, but I will slowly die inside.
I cannot do this any more. I cannot play this game...I will not. If perseverance is a virtue then my soul is damned.