Behind the Glass Wall

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There is a deafening sound in my head. The blaring thunderous noise of utter defeat and madness. Trapped inside my own self, unable to do the simplest thing. The one thing I want to do more than anything else in the world. Behind a glass wall screaming and slamming my fists into it as hard as I can, but nothing. They can’t see me. They’re bleeding out. Hurting. But this glass will not give.

I scream to them that I love them. At the top of my lungs. Punching the glass until my fists start to bleed, but this glass only works one way. They can’t see me. They don’t even know I exist. And I can only watch them hopelessly as they’re being ripped apart. This glass keeps me safe from what’s outside. And it’s very hard for me to let anyone past my glass wall. But I’d rather leave it and run outside to help them. Fight off their monsters. Die for them if I have to. Pick them up, carry them somewhere safe. Stitch up their wounds and tell them everything is going to be okay now. Because I love them. Because I will be there for them now and forever. But the glass wall doesn’t work that way. It doesn’t let me leave. It silences my voice and they will never see how much they mean to me.

So I watch. Through the glass screaming to myself. The deafening noise of my frustration with this wall. Unable to help. Unable to tell them I love them. To tell them I would do anything in the world for them. Unable to show that, show me, behind this glass wall.

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