Tired
I'm tired. I'm sick and tired of the world. Sometimes I think I've been so tired for so long that I've forgotten what it's like to get enough sleep. But it's more than being unable to sleep, it comes from being sick of living. Of spending each day living up to everyone's expectations, spending everyday being calm so people will trust me, of people coming to me with their problems. I'm tired of being so alone and my heart's so sick it hurts. It hurts so much I can't even think sometimes.
And most days I just want to scream at something, to smash something to pieces, to blast someone to bits, to cry until the tears won't come, to laugh like a damn maniac, to take a knife and drag it across the table until it's gouged out to the other side. I want to yell and tell some one they can't be hurting more than I am, that they can't understand, and they can go to hell if they don't get out of my fucking way.
I want to be a selfish bastard and kill myself so I won't have to hurt like this anymore.
I want to die.
But, in the morning, I get up, I go down to the kitchen and eat breakfast, talk to the Weasleys and whoever else may be there, tell them I'm perfectly fine. Stick around more for Harry's sake than my own, because I can't ever get myself to stop caring about him. Call it duty, call it folly, call it whatever you bloody want, it hurts. It doesn't get better, it just gets worse; but I'm still here and here is where I'll stay.
Damn me and my conscience.
There never seems to be any rest for the weary.
Damn whoever thought up that truth.
-
A/N: wasn't that a kick in the gut? A quickie from Remus' POV, if you couldn't tell. If you're still confused about what Rem is so angry about, it's Sirius' unfortunate end.