They say you shouldn't cry in public. That you should be strong, hold your head up high, and never let anyone see you broken.But no one tells you what to do when the tears come quietly — in the middle of class, on the bus ride home, in the middle of the night when the world is asleep and no one's watching.Those are the worst tears. The ones no one sees.
Today was one of those days.
I woke up with my chest heavy. That kind of heaviness that makes you want to roll over, bury yourself under the covers, and disappear. But life doesn't pause for sadness. You still have to brush your teeth, wear your uniform, and show up like you're okay.
I told myself I could handle it.
When I got to school, it was the same old routine. I sat in my corner. Ire and her new friends sat in theirs. Bryant passed by me like I was invisible. The teachers spoke, the students laughed, and I sat there — a quiet shadow no one noticed.
But it wasn't the big things that broke me today. It was the small, stupid things.Like when Mrs. Adeolu asked us to pick a partner for an assignment, and no one picked me. I stood there pretending to be busy with my pen while the others paired off, leaving me last like an unwanted afterthought.Or when I tried to answer a question and got it wrong, and the class burst into laughter.Or when Bryant made a joke with the girl sitting beside him, and I realized it used to be me in that seat.
Each tiny cut, so small on its own, but together… they bled.
I felt it coming during English class. That awful, stinging feeling in your throat when you're trying not to cry. I blinked fast, bit my lower lip so hard it hurt, and stared at my notebook so no one would see the glossiness in my eyes.
But it didn't stop.
During lunch, I slipped away to the back of the school library. There's a small empty space behind the last bookshelf, where no one goes. I sat on the cold floor, hugging my knees, and the tears finally came.
Quiet, careful tears.
Not the loud, dramatic sobs you see in movies. No. These were the soft ones that slid down your cheeks, making your face cold, your heart ache, and your chest feel tight.
I didn't even bother wiping them. What was the point? No one could see me here anyway.And in that lonely corner, I let myself feel everything I'd been holding back.
The pain of losing Ire.The sting of being invisible to Bryant.The heaviness of always being the outsider.The emptiness of showing up every day like it doesn't hurt.
I don't know how long I stayed there. Maybe fifteen minutes. Maybe an hour. The bell rang, but I didn't move. I just sat there, wishing I could disappear into the walls.
For a second, I thought about what it would be like if I just… left.Would anyone notice? Would anyone ask where I went?Would Ire even care?Would Bryant even remember me?
The truth is… probably not.
When I finally stood up and wiped my face, I told myself I wouldn't cry again.But I know I'm lying.Because the tears come back every night.
Here in my room, with my diary.
Dear Diary,I wish people knew how it feels to be so sad you can't explain it.To feel like you're drowning in plain sight, but no one notices.To laugh at jokes you don't find funny just so people won't ask if you're okay.To walk through the day like a ghost no one sees.
I'm tired. Not the kind of tired sleep can fix. The kind that lives in your bones.I don't know how much longer I can carry this invisible weight.But for now… I'll just keep writing. Because at least you, Diary, won't leave me.At least you'll listen.
– Amiya