You secretly cry in the middle of the night
trying not to let everyone know
that you are hurting inside.
All the wide smiles, contagious laughs,
and the jokes you randomly say
seem to wash the thorns away.
Every day, you compose yourself
before going to work.
In the parking lot where you sit
and cry - then goes inside to do needlework.
How do you let someone go, you ask?
How would I know better if I have never done the same?
Every day you wake, tears seem to lessen.
You told me that maybe that is how
you measure how much you have
Maybe you are right.
Let me measure mine.
*Inspired by my roommates life stories. Does not reflect my personal life.