Some days, it feels as though I exist between two worlds.

There is the person everyone sees ~

calm, capable, smiling at the right moments, moving through each day as though nothing has changed.

I answer questions, keep my commitments, and wear composure so naturally that few would ever think to look beyond it. Then there is the quieter life I carry within. A place where sorrow settles gently into my bones, where thoughts remain unspoken, and emotions are too deep for ordinary conversation. There are wounds no one can see, questions I cannot answer, and an ache that follows me even into moments that should feel light.

Living this way is exhausting. Not because pretending is difficult, but because carrying so much in silence slowly becomes its own burden. The words I never speak gather inside me, and the weight of them grows heavier with time. Sometimes I wonder if anyone notices the effort it takes to appear okay.

Not the smile ~

but what it costs to keep it there.

Not the conversation ~

but everything left unsaid beneath it.

Still, I keep moving forward.

And somewhere inside, I hold on to the quiet hope that one day someone will look beyond the version of me I offer the world and gently recognize the soul beneath it~

not asking me to be stronger, not expecting me to be anything at all, simply willing to sit beside me, and truly see me.