Couldn’t Feel

You were the woman I looked up to,

Always brave on someone else’s behalf.

You could talk me through my darkest hour,

Then have me breathless with a laugh.

But when the room went quiet,

And there was no one left to save,

I watched you reach for powder and pills

To keep your own hurt far away.

You said, “I need my head to stop.”

I heard the desperation underneath.

I wanted you to find some peace—

I was terrified of what that peace might mean.

When you couldn’t feel a thing,

I felt enough for both of us.

Every time you disappeared,

Something in my chest gave up.

You were trying to make the world go quiet;

I was begging it to let you stay.

You called it getting through the night—

I felt like I was dying every day.

Your coffee cooled beside the window;

You asked what day it was again.

I answered like it didn’t hurt me,

Then went outside to catch my breath.

Sometimes we’d spend an hour laughing,

And I’d forget to be afraid—

Until your eyes went somewhere distant

And nothing I could say could make you stay.

I hated how my voice got angry

When everything beneath was fear.

I’d practice saying, “I’m so worried,”

But it came out, “Why aren’t you here?”

When you couldn’t feel a thing,

I felt enough for both of us.

Every time you disappeared,

Something in my chest gave up.

You were trying to make the world go quiet;

I was begging it to let you stay.

You called it getting through the night—

I felt like I was dying every day.

I knew you didn’t do it to destroy me.

I knew you wanted somewhere else to be.

But I was right there on the couch beside you,

Missing you while you were touching me.

I couldn’t kiss the hurt out of your body;

I couldn’t hold you hard enough to heal.

And God, I hated being so helpless

With a love that I could physically feel.

When you couldn’t feel a thing,

I could barely stand the ache.

Still the woman I admired,

Still the voice I longed to hear awake.

You deserved a morning you could bear

Without having to erase the night.

I wanted years of ordinary days—

I kept being scared we’d lose tonight.

Your hand in mine.

The clock at three.

You trying to feel nothing.

Everything breaking inside me.