What do people see?

I wonder what people see when they look at me.  Do I look just like everybody else, or do the scars on the inside show on the out?  Do they see the intense amount of concentration on my face, to not fall apart?  Do they know that when they are talking to me, I am telling myself to smile when something is cute, or to laugh when something is funny?  Or do they think this is as natural for me as it is for them? Some of them even tell me that I look like I am doing better, does this mean I am pulling off the façade?  Or are they just saying that to make themselves feel better, to absolve their guilt because they are happy that it wasn’t them.

What would they do if I started to cry?  Probably say “I’m sorry” and then walk off, never to be heard or seen from again.  Would they commit me if they knew my real thoughts and feelings, decide that I am finally going off the deep end.  They tell me all the time that if it happened to them they wouldn’t want to live anymore, I don’t remember being given the choice.  They tell me you have three beautiful children left that you should be happy about, does that mean I should just forget the one that’s lost?  They tell me, I can’t wait for you to be your old self again.  My old self was a mother of four children, I can’t be that person anymore because now there are only three.

They act so shocked when the rage, or hurt comes out.  They say they were only trying to help me, that it’s been almost six months and I should be moving on with my life.  Do they not see that my life is moving on, but my heart is not.  They tell me how much they love their children, do they really think that if those children died that in six months they would be forgotten about?  They say they just want to help me and make it better, they can’t make it better and what they are doing does not help.  More than any of that, they disappear.  They can’t take my pain, they can’t take my rage, and they weren’t strong enough people to hold my hand through it.

Do they know that when I look at them I see them all as weak?  Weak people that couldn’t even hold a friend's hand after the worse loss a person can have.  They tell people they are strong, they tell themselves they are strong.  They are not strong, I am the strong one.