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TK was not built for nights. Or maybe nights weren’t built for him. The way the darkness amplified the silence in his mind only ever led to an endless cavern of dark thoughts.
Tonight, there was a carousel of memories showcasing his biggest failures and mistakes, one sentence on repeat burned on the back of his eyelids.
You will never be enough.
He wasn’t sure who the voice in his head was that wouldn’t let him rest; it didn’t feel like his inner voice. It was simply a fact. A truth of life, he would never live up to the people he surrounded himself with.
How could he compete with a Fire Captain father who got cancer from being a first responder on September 11th? That was the definition of a hero. He was cursed at six years old to follow in the footsteps of a man whom he would never be able to live up to. How could he?
TK twisted in his sheets as if he could roll away from his wandering mind. Why couldn’t he be more like Carlos? That man could fall asleep in three seconds flat, no warmup needed. He massaged his temple to alleviate the building headache blossoming behind his eyes.
How much longer could he fool everyone into thinking that he was a good person? That he did good things? There was a guilt that ate away at his very insides, taunting him with the idea of what he could be, of what he should be. Of what he was failing to accomplish.
He thought about all the times he hurt the people he loved the most, every time he betrayed his parents' trust to chase another high, every boy he’s ever run away from for fear of getting too close. He always let them down. He always would.
He would never be enough.
Every day was a chance for him to do something, to prove himself, and each day he fell short of the pressure that he placed on himself. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered with any of it at all.
Sometimes he wondered if he would ever feel like he was enough.