Do You See Me

Do you remember who I was before survival became our whole life?

Before hospitals.

Before panic.

Before trying to hold this family together with shaking hands.

I gave up dreams.

Changed directions.

Joined battles I never wanted to fight.

And I would do it all again for you.

That's the problem.

Because I loved you so much

I forgot how to love myself.

I became the strong one.

The one who doesn't get to break.

I held you when you wanted to die.

I held our son when the world was too loud for him.

I held bills.

Held fear.

Held everybody together.

And I don't regret it.

But I'm starting to resent it.

Because when your mental health hurts,

everything stops.

When mine hurts...

it feels like I'm expected to carry it quietly.

Like because I've survived every storm,

I can survive another.

Like because I'm a man,

because I'm strong,

because I'm me...

I don't need someone to hold me too.

Do you see me?

Not the provider.

Not the protector.

Not the guy who always figures it out.

Me.

The exhausted man underneath all of it.

The one who lays awake terrified about money.

The one who feels like he's failing everyone.

The one who keeps saying,

"I'm not okay,"

and feels like the words hit the floor.

I'm angry.

Because I don't feel chosen anymore.

I feel needed.

I feel useful.

I feel like your source of stability...

but not your safe place.

Not your person.

I need you to understand this.

I am not angry because I stopped loving you.

I am angry because I never stopped.

I kept choosing you.

Kept choosing us.

Kept carrying things that were crushing me.

And somewhere along the way...

I started feeling like an afterthought in my own marriage.

Like your pain has weight,

but mine has explanation.

Like your fears need comfort,

but mine need endurance.

Do you know how lonely that is?

To spend years protecting someone...

and secretly wish they would turn around

and protect you too?

I don't need you to fix me.

I don't need some grand gesture.

I need you to see that I am not unbreakable.

I am tired.

I am depressed.

I am scared.

And I am so angry because I have been drowning beside you for years...

while trying to keep your head above water.

I don't want to be your foundation tonight.

I don't want to be your stability.

I want to be your husband.

I want to feel like if I fell apart...

you would catch me too.

Because I have spent years carrying this family on my back.

And lately...

I don't know if anyone notices

that my knees are finally shaking.