Wake up alone. Spend the majority of my time at a job I hate, being stressed out, and ruining my body. I’m starting to feel like I’m 79 instead of 29. Have to constantly hide how I feel, watch my back, and be on the defensive. Thankful for a paycheck and grateful for an opportunity to grow. I crave laughter and hugs. I’m addicted, which means I can’t get enough. I have prayer and family. I can’t even clear my mind with a good workout because my knee is wrecked, my back is tweaked, and now something’s wrong with my hip. I can’t be the athlete that I truly am. I feel like a loser. I cry to God at night, desperately hoping that he’s listening. Then, I dry my tears and tell myself to grow up and be strong because life is what it is and it’s not always fair. I roll over and feel the empty space next to me. Go to sleep alone. Wake up alone.