Tabula Rasa II: I wanted to pass this on - Illustration

They always told me pain is relative.
Nowadays, I am not so sure anymore. I was often told I am really resilient or strong. But honestly the last few years, I have started to really doubt that. As life moves on you just keep collecting scars, accrue disappointments and have small little successes in between, but man the pain just keeps piling up.
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I know, I chose this life for myself. At the time it seemed like the noble thing to do, but as you face these ups and downs, it all just gets harder and harder to swallow each time. How many times is the world going to crumble? How many times do I have to pick up the fucking pieces when everything is in shambles?
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All I see on the other side is this massive black wall of nothingness. With every new crash, catastrophe and black hole of fear, it expands. The pain does not get less, the wall just comes closer.
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I invited her to the theme park. It was a secret one, my own little place of fun. Hidden on the rooftop of an abandoned apartment complex, wrapped in a blanket of spikes, enveloped by a fence that could hold an elephant. It was known as the Iron-Walled City.
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The funny thing is, I started building this place a long time ago. I used to think about it every day, I worked on weekends, it would keep me awake at night. I wanted this place to exist, so much. To some extent I thought, I was sacrificing myself to a higher purpose. For someone else. For someone to pass this onto.
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Why do I even want to show this place to other people? Deep down I think I wouldn't care if someone else showed me theirs. The more I show it, the more I want to forget it. I guess in all honesty I want people to tell me it was not a complete waste of my time.
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As the days go by, I still drive by everyday, twice. It is just there barely on my periphery, always. I haven't been there in more than 8 years. It is funny when I think about it. Nobody ever talks about what to do once you realized your dreams. Do you just wander your empty castle, your empire of dirt, your own little mausoleum?
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It pains me to see all of this.
I wish it would hurt less each time. I am always surprised it just keeps going.
Maybe it will be better tomorrow. I am looking for better days.
Please tell me there will be.