Defeated.

As I sit here in the wee hours, my head is swirling with thoughts. No caffeine is keeping me up, not my roommate up making a ruckus, and I'm definitely not wanting to be awake. I am up because emotions are swirling my head, and with Irvine guys here I definitely cannot show it. Simply put, I have reached the point of exhaustion to which I have never imagined that I would reach, I've found my limit to which I have lost the will to fight. And in this time, I feel lost, confused, frustrated, angry.
I've lost battles before, I've fought and fell in times of trials, but NEVER have I given up. There has not been one instance in which I have given up hope, and today, tonight, I have realized that I have reached the point of defeat. My sword is dropped and my shield is lowered, I've pushed for my all and have gotten nothing but pain in return, and I now clearly see that the road ahead is not to glory, but it is a road of just more frustration and anger. I have even lost the desire to be defeated with my head held high, I am no longer the cornered dog that would bark and growl, I can now only whimper. Or rather, I am now only whimpering.
My dreams are crushed and the only support that is barely keeping me on my legs is the Lord. Sad to say that there is no happy ending. This is the end of the book. Herein lies the final words of the warrior who fell. And although there very well might be a time where I reopen this book and continue writing, the chance to which I take this book and burn it, bury it, or hide it away forever is just as likely. I am a warrior defeated.

I know these words are very vague, and more than likely I'll post again about the truth of the matter, and maybe even give you a taste of what really is going on.