Watch Me Unfold

He asks what’s wrong.

Everything and nothing at all.

I smile like we’re okay because how does one speak the truth when the facts are hard to say?

No one will understand.

Do you stay quiet, hoping one day that longing deep within your gut will eventually fade, just like everything else you folded away? You chose to be that woman—a wife, a mother, a giver, and not in that particular order.

But nothing is wrong when you’re silent, right? Bottling that tear until you release your frustrations on whatever’s near, like that never-ending pile of laundry on the bed or your husband, who hasn’t touched you in days. But he’s your everything. Not enough to speak the truth, but you’re dying to.

He asks what’s wrong.

I wish you could see everything over nothing at all.