I will always smile for the ones who need to see it. I’ll smile to show them that there is positivity and light in the world. And I will be the giver of love and joy when they need it the most. I will share my happiness and the beautiful parts of my life because I want them to feel the beauty and warmth of the love I experience too. But this is exhausting. I’m exhausted.
I give and I give and I give. I will give my heart to everyone until I have no heart left for myself. And I will hold everyone else’s hand instead of holding my own. You can have my warmth, and you can have every sweater and fire that I build. I’ll ignore the cold. I won’t let it bother me, as long as you are warm. You have my trust. You have every inch of my love and caring. I will give to you, before I give to myself. I’ll let you know that I’m fine.
To you, I will always smile. I’ll laugh with you, and I will be the hand of reassurance when you need love. I will tell you everything beautiful about yourself that I see, and I will laugh it off when you try to tell me the same. I will let the focus be on you, so that you recognize all the good I see from my perspective. Because you matter more to me. Compared to you, I am so small, so miniscule, because I believe in everyone else.
I’ll tell everyone not to give up because I put all my beliefs in them. I encourage them to do their best and to be the person they believe in. I cheer them on with my entire heart. I put the spotlight on my shoulder and carry it for them so it always shines on them. They deserve it. As long as you succeed, it doesn’t matter what happens to me. I will always be happy for you.
But alone, I’m scared.
I break alone, I cry alone. I’ve seen others hurt too much that I won’t let it show for them. I will not let it affect them. I will be strong for them. I won’t be the one to sour their life or the storm cloud that drifts in and blocks their light. But inside, in my solitary, I am hurting. It’s so hard to be strong all the time. It hurts to smile all the time; the muscles in my face are sore and it stings.
I miss being a child, so carefree with no weight of burden or sadness. This is foreign. This is uncomfortable. Feeling alone is painful, but I don’t want the loneliness to spread like a disease to everyone else. I’ll keep it to myself, because I care for others’ happiness. As long as they are happy, I’ll believe that my strength is theirs.
I can show all of the sun in the world. I can be the sparkling stars and the luminescent moon in your darkest nights. But I’m tired. Inside, I am dark, grey clouds, brewing and raining and cold. And sometimes, I need people to be the sun for me, to put their arms around me and tell me that I can be exhausted. To finally let me lean my head on their shoulder and to let me rain.