Exhausted

From explaining myself to people who believe that being married to a Muslim is similar to being Frankenstein’s bride, or Jack the Ripper’s victim.

How exhausted am I?

Imagine:

Life as a marathon.

A sweaty marathon runner with a cramp. And someone with a terrible nasal voice nagging at her shoulder, lying to her about her shoelaces. Telling her they’ve come untied.

At every mile.

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