I can’t have you slowing down now—
not after all the strides you’ve taken.
Look at how far you’ve come
with the little time you’ve had.
At least thus far, that is.
I want it so badly.
I want to reach this point—
the point I have inside my mind.
I want this to be done.
If I can just reach it,
if I can just get there—
then what, I’ll feel good?
I don’t know, to be honest.
I’ll probably still do more later.
I’m reaching a gear now,
getting myself back to a point of extra—
where I do more than I need to.
Maybe that’s what I want.
I want extra.
Extra effort.
Extra progress.
Extra proof that I didn’t settle.
When I get to the end of this, it won’t just be about the finish line—it’ll be about knowing I went beyond it. It’s not enough to check the box. I need to leave no doubt that I gave everything. Maybe I’ll never be satisfied with “just enough.” And maybe that’s the point. To want more, to push past expectations—not because someone’s watching, but because I refuse to let myself stay small.
Some people want comfort. I don’t. I want that feeling—the one where you’ve done more than anyone thought was possible, especially you. The one where exhaustion turns into pride because you went further than you thought you could.
The truth is, the “finish” isn’t where I stop—it’s where I build momentum for whatever comes next. Extra is where I find out who I really am. The part where you’re not supposed to have anything left and you still find something. That’s what makes me feel alive.
So here I am, pushing again. I could call it done, but I don’t want to. I want to go past it. I want to see how much more I have, even when I tell myself I don’t. I’m not here for comfort—I’m here to grow. And maybe that’s what I’ve wanted all along.
