The people who are close to her do not see the sorrow behind her eyes anymore. She has become a master at hiding her pain.
The thing about hiding is, you are almost expected to keep up that deceptive part of reality. It is a continuom of lies really. When the cracks begin to show again, often times people will say, “but you have been doing so well…”, no – I have not been “well” in a long time.
This sadness is all consuming and takes it’s hosts as prisoners.
Still, somehow, she keeps up this masquerade.
She always thought the people close to her would see through to the real her, but in actuality these people do not want to know the details of why or what or how or when things fell apart.
Instead continue to go along with the shell of fakeness engrossing the person they once knew.
They do not want to know. And maybe that is okay. She will fight her demons in this unconscionable sadness alone – like all her battles.