What You Didn’t Know Pt.2

You see the teacher standing at the front of the room —

Organized. Patient. Smiling like she has all the answers.

What you don’t see is the stack of bills on her kitchen counter,

Or the nights she stays awake wondering

If she’s failing everyone she’s trying to hold together.

You see the boy who jokes too much,

Always loud. Always the center of attention.

What you don’t see is how quiet his house is now,

Or how he learned early

That if he makes people laugh,

They won’t ask why his eyes look tired.

You see the couple posting anniversary photos —

Perfect lighting. Perfect captions. Perfect love.

What you don’t see are the months they almost didn’t make it,

The words they wish they could take back,

The nights spent sitting on opposite sides of the bed

Wondering if love was already gone.
 

You see the athlete pushing harder than everyone else,

Disciplined. Focused. Unbreakable.

What you don’t see is how terrified they are to stop moving,

Because silence leaves too much room

For memories they can’t outrun.

And still,

You measure your worst days

Against someone else’s highlight reel.
 

You assume strength is loud.

You assume healing is fast.

You assume pain looks like pain.

But most people you pass every day

Are carrying chapters

They never learned how to read out loud.
 

So be gentle —

With strangers.

With friends.

With yourself.
 

Because everyone is surviving something

You’ll never be asked to understand.