I’m a note taker. That says two things about me.

I’m detail oriented and I’m organized. Long story short, I notice things. Whether they be as obvious as a physical sign in front of my eyes, or a change in tone of voice. I notice it all. I’m keen to catch on to, and hang onto, more negativity than positivity. It’s how I’m wired.

This means that, people come to me for advice, for a shoulder to cry on, for a helping hand – to which I try my best to be there, sometimes, over doing it. They come back expecting more.

I don’t have anymore to give. More importantly, I don’t know how to explain that to them, other than fail them. It’s a viscous cycle and it all begins with one question.

Why can’t they see?

Why can’t they see the anxiety in my eyes, darting across the room. Why can’t they see the depression in my voice and hopelessness In the way that I walk. Why can’t they see the tears so obviously streaming down my face. Why can’t they see the change in me?

When I can see the change in them…