Almost Unbearable

It's almost unbearable. The teasing, the name-calling, the laughter. I sit through it all with a smile on my face and make sure no one can see my eyes. The eyes that give away hurt and anger and fear. The eyes that are threatening to cry any second now. I look at you out of habit, to gauge your reaction, to see what you think of their slicing words. But this time, you're already looking at me with those blue eyes that pull me under. You're not listening to them. You look away as soon as I see you. My clenched fist relaxes. My vision, once blurry, has cleared because now I see that you don't care. You weren't even listening. You were just looking with those eyes. I turn away from you and focus on the scarred wood of my desk. Each time their words slice and cut and stab, I look at you and you look away and my shattered heart is slowly put back together.

It's almost unbearable. Just almost.