If You Were Fighting For Me… What Were You Fighting For? (Part 2)
I think the part I held onto the most wasn’t the “be still.”
It was the “I will fight for you.”
I needed that.
I needed to believe that you were doing something.
To know that someone was fighting for me—and not at me.
That you were working behind the scenes.
That you were moving in ways I couldn’t see.
That all of it meant something.
And for a long time…
I wasn’t still.
Not really.
I prayed.
I pushed.
I manipulated more than I care to admit.
I tried to hold everything together.
I tried to help you, if I’m honest.
And now?
Now I really am still.
But not in the way I thought I would be.
It’s not this peaceful, confident stillness.
It’s more like…
Everything has burned to the ground and is in ashes.
And there’s nothing left to do.
So I sit here and wonder:
Is it too late?
Did I miss something?
Did I do it wrong?
Am I being punished?
Because I did believe you were fighting for me.
I really did.
But if you were fighting for me…
What were you fighting for?
Because it wasn’t what I thought.
And I don’t even know if I’m waiting anymore.
I think I’ve let go.
Or maybe I’ve just gotten tired.
Or maybe those are the same thing.
All I know is…
I’m still here.
And so are you.
And I think you fought to pull me through.
