You felt tired. That was the best way to say it.

You weren't sure how many hours had passed, but it felt like eternity. The moonlight bled through your curtains, the plush comfort of your blankets did nothing to soothe the ache in your gut. You felt empty, almost, like a tool that was only used when needed.

It was how it had always been. People only came to you if they needed you, but the second you needed them, they'd leave within seconds.

You felt as if you were rotting, rotting into the duvet covering your bed. Your eyes felt heavy yet pain refused to give you sleep. You sighed, rolling over in attempt to get comfortable, but you felt like crying; no tears would come. If you did cry, you were too exhausted to keep going.

Throwing your covers over your head you closed your eyes.