You see, though you may not seek, the turmoil residing behind those usually clear blue eyes staring at your beauty.
You touch, though you may not feel, both the smile and frown lines around the corners of his mouth with your lips.
You hear, though you may not listen to, the melodic laugh of his joy and the broken edges of his tear-stained words.
There is a part of me that wishes I do not understand him better than you ever did, beyond those skimmed conversations and dark circles, beyond the momentary glances and backs turned to the side in a brief wave of sadness.
There is a part of me that wishes I do not feel the silent cries reverbrating under the ground, the rumbling of his deep voice echoing through my bones as he talks to me, and the vibrations of his loud, sharp laughs that you don't feel.
But I sense them, those agonizing and blissful moments, those ups and downs, yet you are who he chooses to have by his side. It's as if he isn't aware of me at all.