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You took all of the light from the room when you walked in.
Out of sight, out of mind, is my unfortunate philosophy.
When you're not in the room, I can act like I'm normal, not broken up inside, on the verge of tears every time I see something that reminds me of you.
You used to be so strong, my light through dark times, my guide, my protector.
But now it is your turn to be weak, and my turn to try to be strong for you.
It would be nothing less than tragic if I couldn't muster up the strength to be strong for you.
I owe you that much.
But now when I see you you are practically bedridden mentally,
trying to be normal when you really can't stand just waiting for your fate to be announced.
So I have to put on a happy face and try to have a normal conversation
but I can tell that when I leave the room, we're both about to cry.
I can hear that edge in your voice that betrays the fear you are really feeling.
And I know it's not your fault in the least and I know I must be strong, but right now
you take all of the light from the room when you walk in.