You don’t see me when my heart is breaking for friends and family who are struggling and I am so helpless. You don’t see the tears when I get a Skype call from my grand babies and I hear “Love you Grandma” and I have never got to hold them.
You don’t how sad I get watching negative post about the White Sox and I would give anything to go to the park and have that experience just once.
You don’t know the hours I spend sitting at my computer early of a morning to watch the boys play, to just be a part of the game experience. I just want to see my favorite players do well, I would love to have a picture or get an autograph from them. Living in Australia, I would settle for twitter follows from them, it is simple but you have no idea how happy I would be.
You don’t see me when I hear news of people who have passed, like Prince, David Bowie and others, who have been apart of my life and there is no one to really to grieve with.
You don’t see how hard I work to produce good quality work, hoping that I can build an audience and maybe get noticed. Being an independent write, alot of the time , just getting acknowledged is the only payment.
I get up each morning and put up the brave face. Checking on friend and family, send up prayers when I read request or hear of sad news.
I may be brave and tell you I am OK, and just get on with it. There are times when I just need someone to listen. I know I can fix things and I need to just get them go, but once in a while I would give anything for someone to ask me
“Are you really OK?”