The unspoken is seldom heard
He looked at me, silent, his eyes asking, "How are you coping?"
I wanted to reply, I am tired, I am exhausted beyond imagination and I am holding the fort and I think I am coping but maybe it's merely out of habit that I fight, I am dispirited, I am low but maybe it will pass and I will feel better tomorrow, how about you, how are you coping?
Instead, I heard myself say, "What ...?"
For an answer he turned away, looked down at his feet, and asked, "How's it going?"
And I heard myself say, "Yeah, okay."
Posted by sniffles at June 06, 2003 01:20 PM