Those swollen eyes truly stole my heartbeats but little did I know the reason. Little did I see the pressure on them, and little did I know her struggle. The eyes still steal my gaze but I am not with her. How can I be?
Her eyes always look at me, it questions, the answers which I am unable to deal with, questions that are not merely questions but poles to make her break free but I am never able to answer her. She craves respect, she craves warmth but would I be able to give her all that, will she be at ease? Will she be able to rest assured beside me? Am I enough for her and will she be able to exist with me?
Her eyes are brave, am I enough for her?
I often talk to her but I am unable to understand her emotions, is she going to stick to her decisions and not falter, or will she be fighting all alone as she has been doing so far? Do I have what it takes to stand next to her to heal her? Do I hold that importance in her life? Will I be able to be her strength and take her share of the burden?
Life is too sour, I have my own struggle too but will I be able to take her in and make her life beautiful, or instead, or she will be shattered once I bring her in? Will I eventually break her and turn her into someone she never wanted to become or should I just trust my journey?
I have seen her eyes, she is strong but weak too. Her eyes never lie. She is struggling a lot but failing miserably, she is not being able to climb up the stairs, she is falling but never failing. She will eventually get her stand, it is only a matter of time until she will have all that she wants. Does she want me?
Am I a part of her big dream? I have seen her eyes, they want warmth but my life is full of struggle. If I bring her in she will only suffer. Although, all she need is warmth and grace I am afraid I will be able to be her man. Her eyes question me.
I am unable to dodge her eyes. I am not truly meant for her. I will not be able to confess to her my feelings but she will stand there strong. I am not courageous enough to take her in, make her my wife, all I can do is stick to her as a friend. I can look at her and stick with her helping her calm herself down.
I can help her dodge the bullet and keep her moving forward. I can be her shield and protect her but I cannot be her guard. I cannot make her wish come true. I cannot make her days bright. I cannot make her struggle any less than what it is, but she is enough. She is enough for herself I know, but am I meeting those swollen eyes?
Am I meeting those swollen eyes I am fond of? Am I being courageous? No, I am not.
No, I am not being her warmth and I am not being her support. All I am doing is being a good friend to her. A friend who will support her no matter what, a friend who will not be a pushover but a friend who tries to stick around even when her eyes are swollen. I may not be her lover but I can be her well-wisher.
I may not take off her burden but I can always give her my ears. I can give her a sense of trust and lighten up her mood even if that is for a fraction of a moment. I may not be her perfect husband but I can be her best friend. Her swollen eyes remind me of the struggle that I store inside of me, which no one knows about but only her swollen eyes know I can feel. Some bridges may never be created but the broken bridges will always be mended.
