what I was the only one to see

She cried at the altar

and everyone took it for gladness,

but I could see through to the sadness,

the panic beneath the smile.

His hand on her back,

steady and sure,

but I could see she wasn't sure,

could see the fear

trying to break through

her careful facade.

The tears came down like confession,

like she was telling us something

without using words,

and everyone applauded

because that's what you do

when someone performs

so perfectly

you believe it yourself.

But I saw the seams,

saw the way her jaw was tight,

saw the moment before she pulled it right,

before she remembered

to hide the shaking.

Later, at the reception, she hugged me.

"Wasn't it beautiful?" she asked.

And I said yes,

because what else could I say?

She was already committed

to the lie,

already married

to the performance,

and I was the only one

who'd seen her

want to run.