I know that. I’ve been there, done that. My God, how I have been there and done that.
But now, now I’m the happy one, the one for whom life is good, so good. And it’s easy to forget that some people are just faking it. Just faking that happy face. Going about their jobs, their home lives, their times with family; the dial set to the comfortable smile channel, the easy laughter station.
Inside, though, they’re just a nudge away from tears, from breaking down, from screaming ’til the throat burns raw and it hurts just to breathe.
And they, these capable-of-winning-an-Oscar performers, what are they thinking? Have they fallen for the lie that says, "No one wants to hear about it"? Are they turning away from intimacy, from self-revelation, because, "No one likes a complainer"? Do they, like I once did, succumb to the thought that, "No one cares"?
And have we let them?