What you don’t see:
I see myself staring back at you, impassive and cold.
I hear the insincerity in my voice when I say nothing’s wrong.
I watch myself drive away, every time I go somewhere without you.
At night in bed I feel when I stiffen and pull away from.
I know the helplessness.
I see the world spinning out of control.
I feel the waves rising all around, with no land in sight, as I drift away from you in the fog.
I feel the panic when, just when you thought everything was OK, the ground drops out from under your feet.
I feel your fear when I am angry and cannot be appeased.
I feel the despair.
I shudder with your sobs.
They tear me apart.
I feel the desperation when you do anything, everything to make it up to me the next day.
I feel the creeping madness when all of life seems like an endless carousel.
I feel the years slipping through your fingers.
I see them pay attention to me and ignore you.
I hear them talk to you and never hear you.
I feel the fatigue born of endless work with little thanks.
I feel all of this.
The only thing I cannot feel,
is your happiness.