She needs help. I can see it.
She thinks she hides it. Thinks I can't tell. But I can.
It's been so clear for so long. We're inseparable. I've noticed all the little changes.
I see the pain that she tries to hide away. I see the mental struggle she fights everyday.
I notice the way she's grown quieter over the years. I see the way she sits on the sidelines. She's still sitting there but it's like her minds somewhere else. She's not completely present.
She observes. Listens. Makes a comment now and then but never really joins in.
I see the way she fakes laughs. Whenever everyone else does she joins in at the right times. But it never reaches her eyes. I see through it. You can't fake a laugh to someone who's faked it for so long.
She never talks about herself anymore. Never shares her feelings. Never tells us when she's upset. She listens to all of our problems. All of our rants about nothing. We pour our hearts out to her. She's the best listener. But I can tell there's so much on her