He is sorry. He has no words. He can't do this. He can't talk. He is afraid. He can't look at her. He can't connect. He knows. And he keeps the mask on tight.

She is tired. She is trying. She begs him to get help. She wants help. 

She wants happy, laughing, dancing. He cannot or will not see. He misunderstands her every word. Reads attack and is hurt, offended and he retreats further. She is hopeless. Defeated.

She is so tired. But she needs to try.

She wants to quit. Then she sees their little faces. She is flogging a dead horse. This won't change. She must try. These kids.

She misses laughter. The children run and laugh and play. Sweaty little bodies, arms about her neck.

She tries.

He forgets things. She reminds. She leads. She resents this. She is tired. She hates the conflict. She cannot breathe. She needs space. He yells. Wakes her in the night to confront her.

She knows she is not taking care of herself. Her body is fatigued. She cannot carry this and she cannot breathe.

She is hopeless. Letting them all down. What is right? What is wrong? She needs air. She is crazy. She is so tired. 

The low-energy, the atmosphere is killing her. Eating her soul. 

He is self-conscious. Sensitive. Slow. Is this contagious? She is drowning. She wants to dance. Where did she loose that girl? Weak. Helpless.

Living a lie.

Bad decisions. No courage. She cannot bear this.

What to do? His mask stays on tight. No one sees. No one knows how deep this deceit runs. The weight. The mortgage. She cannot hurt or disappoint them all.

She prays.

Published by Kristy Hunt