Amorphous

outside looking in

I play the part well. Everything is okay. I’ve got everything under control. Not only is this easy, it’s reallllllly easy. I’m surprised that everyone doesn’t do it. On purpose even.

But it’s not easy. At least not always. I didn’t expect it to be, though, so I can handle it. Easy isn’t really what I’m made of anyway. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

What I have a hard time with is watching you through the fence. Given our situations, your life should be similar to mine. But it’s not. I watch how easy your life is. I see you come and go from work like nothing else matters. I watch you bring in your groceries, mostly preprepared meals you can stuff in the microwave. I see the occasional package that you try way too hard to conceal. I notice you sacrificing very important things for your career. I see how easy it is for you to walk away when your time is up without looking back. I listen to you complain to your neighbors about your boyfriend’s cat. I hear the parties you throw, even if they don’t keep me up at night.

It’s only a thought. It doesn’t last. I know I’m doing what’s best and most rewarding.

But it makes me wonder. When the curtains are drawn, and all your lights are out except for the one on your bedside table, and you’re all alone: are you crying at night because of what you’ve lost or are you going to bed with a smile thinking that you’ve really got it all figured out?

I really wish you’d just leave your window open once. It’d help me out a lot.