So Done
When Gabe thinks I'm not looking, his shoulders slump, and the weight of his father's health is etched into the lines of his face. His usual confidence feels like a brittle mask and the sight and knowledge of the truth, make my chest ache.
Gabe's only support is his mother- who is a mess of worries herself and well... me. Or possibly he is being comforted by you know who. Gosh, I feel like an absolute tool for thinking this way but I cannot help it and I do not understand this burning desire inside me to pick up any available furniture- perhaps the remote which is nearest to me and fling it against Gabe's annoying head. With each passing moment, I can feel the storm brewing between Gabe and me a growing distance that neither of us is brave enough to confront head-on is keeping me up a distance but not entirely.