Sometimes I lie.
I am a stone. Impervious to the battering of questions and stares. Anchored in an empty and voiding sea, watching helplessly as the lives of others drift by. I am stuck.
I am a void. A porous vessel where grief and sadness pour endlessly in yet never fills.
Oh how I envy the young and the bloom of innocence. I long to be a child. The only thing I was afraid of was the bogeyman. Now that I know there are worse things to fear, I am no longer able to close my eyes or cover my ears. I hate pretending to be brave.
I am a sprinter. Barely able to keep ahead of my own thoughts, I dare not slow down. What is chasing me is worse than what lies ahead.
Life has moved on as I know it must. Never in a cruel way but I watch as normalcy for other people comes slowly back.
However much I might envy others, this is not meant for me. For now.
“My grief lies all within; and these external manner of laments are merely shadows of the unseen grief that swells with silence in the tortur’d soul.”
– William Shakespeare
So when the question comes, so gently and cautiously asked, “ How are you?” I merely smile and lie. “I’m okay”.