Through A Box OS

Through A Box

I see her smile, and it always brings a smile to my face as well, though just as a disguise. Smiling, smiling, ever-smiling, it's just a facade. I don't really smile at all, I just want the world to think it, for them to believe that's how I'm really feeling. I'm scared of how I'm really feeling. I'm crying on the inside, the tears everlasting. I hold it in, mustn't let it get out. I don't want her to know, don't want anyone to know. Then there'd be explaining needed, and she's the only one I want to tell, though I know she wouldn't understand. I lie to her, that's what I do, I lie to her. I lie to everyone, hoping no one will find out, no one will ask, no one will question. That they won't see my inner emotion, my inner self, the heart-broken liar. I lie to myself, convince myself that I'm happy, that I should be happy. I need to feel joy. But I never truly confront it; I can't, I know I can't, I'm not sure I even want her to know, though sometimes I've wished with all my heart that she would, that she'd be feeling the same. Her happiness though is true, free, unworrying, and I don't want to ruin that. I'd feel terrible if I made her feel this way just to absolve myself of this pain and turmoil. I need to be with her though, at least that I can do. So now I simply stand here, watching, loving, hiding, lying, seeing the world through a box....