His eyes have grown weary. His smiles have grown tired. His body has grown limp.
He walks about his life trying to deceive those who do not know him that he is okay. He goes around from hallways to classrooms, from street to street, putting a smile on his face that does not reach his eyes. He talks as if there isn’t a weight on his shoulders that he is struggling to carry, as if he is not getting tired, as if he is not starting to give up.
But I see him.
I see him struggling. I see him trying his best but still not feeling as if he’s enough. I see him faking his smiles and laughter. I see him putting on an act that fools everyone who does not know him.
But I do.
I see through him and only feel sorry. I cannot do anything to help him. I cannot.
He is trying hard to live his life on his own. He is doing his best to be on his own. He is attempting to be okay without help. He is…not winning the battle against his mind.
The thoughts within get to him. The dreams come to get him. The comments from everyone who should not be saying one word are driven through his skull and play in repeat, torturing him.
One day, he will give up. One day, he will not have the strength to continue. One day, he will not be here anymore.
But he will be…in my heart, he will forever stay.