Loving from the outside is hard to do.
Making contact through what seems to be an invisible glass so it feels.
There is no intimacy, only motions of intentionality.
Locked in a prison of anxiety, round and round the fears take hold.
Watching the clock as reality ticks farther and farther away.
There is no sure foundation to rely on, only the worst case scenarios.
Longing to help, longing to ease, try again to break in.
Sad desperation leads to abrupt measures to rescue and redeem.
There is no lingering peace, only the end of the current event.
Loving someone who lives within a world of anxiety is hard to do.
You watch them suffer intensely even though there is no need to.
If only the person inside would turn the key and not pay such high dues.