Unseen

She’s usually the first one I notice in the morning.

Not because she makes noise or demands attention but because she’s already working before I’m fully awake. She rubs the sleep out of my eyes gently, like she knows I’m not ready yet. She stretches a little, as if preparing herself for whatever kind of day I’m about to have.

She never asks what’s coming. She just shows up.

When I’m nervous, she holds on tighter. When my thoughts start racing, she jiggles, trying to calm me down in her own way. When I’m sad, she reaches up before anyone else does and wipes my tears like it’s instinct, not effort.

I don’t even have to ask.

She feeds me when I eat. She writes my thoughts down when my head gets too loud. And She applauds quietly when I achieve something small, even when the world doesn’t notice.

And when I mess up, she doesn’t lecture me. She doesn’t leave. She just stays close. Sometimes resting on my chest, sometimes running through my hair, sometimes simply being there, still and patient.

I take her for granted more than I should.

I overwork her. I hurt her accidentally. I expose her to heat, cold, rough edges, sharp moments. I expect too much and thank her too little. Yet she never brings it up the next day. No complaints. No resentment.

Just loyalty.

If I fall in love someday, she’ll be the one to reach out first. When I succeed, she’ll be the first to feel it. Even if I lose, she’ll tremble before I even admit I’m scared.

That trembling used to annoy me. I thought she was betraying me, giving me away when I was trying to look strong.

Now I think she was just being honest.

She expresses things I try to hide. She reveals truths my mouth refuses to say.

This might be the most consistent relationship I’ve ever had.

No big gestures.

Nothing dramatic.

Just presence.

And the funny thing is, she doesn’t need words. She never explains herself. She just proves it through small and quiet actions I barely notice until I stop and think about it.

Maybe that’s what real love looks like.

So tonight, before I fall asleep, I look at her for a moment longer than usual.

I don’t say anything.

She won’t reply anyway.

But tomorrow morning, she’ll be there again ready, loving me in the only way she knows.