I refuse

Maybe these repeated occurrences means it's just not for me. I am capable, but my happiness is elsewhere. I know I am hard working, inquisitive, eloquent, but maybe this is just not my style and I need to find the place that fits me, rather than crumpling my paper heart up to fit it. My mind and heart are fragile like paper, lightweight such that I fly away in the free breeze. The hard times do make the achievements all the greater, but must the hard times be like a fatigue test, stressing you till you finally break with catastrophic results? A psyche should not be turned into a psycho, but nurtured into a science about yourself. Some may say I don't know how to cope; maybe the truth is that I refuse to...