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Life can be hard and it can be cruel. Thrusting single mothers into hardships and then leaving them to watch as their children struggle, only to fail. I couldn’t become that statistic, I needed to push myself beyond my limits, and rip my family out of that mold. Forcing myself to be better, do better, and letting my body take the brunt of those efforts. All I could see was that endzone and what it would mean for my impoverished family. Just when I think I’ve made it, thinking that all the blood, sweat, and tears were worth it, I’m slapped back into reality. No grass is greener, no matter where you are, and no amount of money makes you a good person. Love is not kind and if it’s not conventional, it’s disregarded. Secrets born from shame and anger nurtured from hate, blend inside my heart. How can love win when everyone wants it to fail?


Life can be fickle and it can be rough. One minute you’re riding the high of an impossible win and the next your hands are wrapped around the bars of a cell. No matter your life’s accomplishments, once you hit rock bottom, you’re forgotten. If you’re no longer useful, you’re discarded. I ran my body and mind into the ground, pushed myself to greatness, and all for a game I would ultimately lose. What happens when you finally face your fears and jump into the abyss, only to find out you’re completely alone? The one person you’ve come to depend on disappears and your heart longs for the hunger only he can satisfy. There are no right answers and time doesn’t heal all wounds. How can love survive if it’s surrounded by hate?

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