I wish you could see...

I wish you could see the stars the way I do.

I wish you could see the night sky and think of the endless possibilities.

I wish you could see the ocean, watch the waves, and think of peace.

I wish you could see...

But you can't.

Your eyes are blinded by hate, by hurt, by the pain and suffering this world has bestowed upon you. Your ears have turned deaf to the pleas of the people as you cross the street. Your nose has been desensitised to the pungent smell of the poor. "They deserve it." You say. "They should have worked harder to better their lives."

Your heart has been hardened by the world's cruelties, by your own shortcomings, and you've built up these walls so high and so thick that anyone who tries to tear them down ends up just as broken as you are.

I've tried to forgive your misgivings, reason with myself why you act so, but it is impossible.

I put myself in your shoes for a day, tried to see the world as you did, to maybe find a way to you.

From the moment I woke, instead of eager anticipation, I felt anxiety, a crippling grief brought only by the monotony of day and mourning for the loss of night. There was no enjoyment in my morning meal; the colourful cereal just a mess of artificial colouring and diabetes-inducing sugar swimming in the labour of others.

At school, I was wary. I had to watch my back, constantly making sure no one was copying off of my work and passing it up as their own. And during recess, I watched my friends dejectedly walking away. "I don't have friends." You say, so neither should I.

I wanted to call out to them, tell them I'm sorry and that it is only for today. But I fear our friendship is now irreparable. I want to hope that I can somehow fix things, but to be in your shoes, I can't hold onto hope.

As I walk home, I see the nameless faces. People shrouded in poverty, stretching out their hands for a little spare change that could mean the difference between a hearty meal and going to bed hungry.

I hear the coins rattling in my pocket, it's weight anchoring me to the ground. I have more than I did yesterday, the result of not sharing it with my companions to pool together enough for an after school snack. But I keep my hands in my pocket, shoving the change deep inside, trying to ignore the nagging voice in my head telling me to share what I have.

The five minute walk seems to take hours without a friend by my side. Even the sunny day seems gloomy and I feel my heart settling into a deep depression.

At home, the bountiful dinner prepared doesn't stir my appetite, the growling monster deep in the recesses of my being seems to be complacent even without my usual snack.

I push the food away, blocking out the guilt from wasting a meal, and stumble into my room, dragging my bag along behind me. The bright pages of homework seem dull, the arithmetic questions decorated with colourful doodles nothing more than a brain-numbing worksheet I wish to throw in the flames.

I find no joy in my reading assignment, the words rushing through my head as I scramble to find the answers. Somehow, my homework is completed, but I don't feel as if I had learnt anything new. I couldn't even tell you what the plot of the story was.

Homework done and teeth brushed, I wait in my room for your return. The clock strikes 10, and you waltz in like clockwork, briefcase in hand and the smallest of smiles on your face.

You give me a hug and a kiss, but I don't feel its usual warmth. Instead, I feel an overbearing need to push you away. It hurts when this is what I've been longing for all day, and yet I can't bring myself to revel in it.

You ask me about my day, and I give the most basic recount you say I've ever given. You frown, trying to figure out what went wrong with my day.

I can only reply that I was trying to see the world as you did, trying to see everything in a new light, or maybe in the shadows. And all I found was that it made me a shell of who I am, someone I'm not, someone I never want to be.

You tell me never to do that again, to never try to be someone I'm not, to never change myself for anyone. I try explaining why I did it, but you cut me off, kissing me goodnight with a promise to take me to the playground in the morning.

As you close the bedroom door, I can hear your tears. Your cries pain me and I promise to myself never to do it again, if it only brought you pain. I never wanted to make you cry. I never wanted to hurt you.

I feel the tears begin to pool in my eyes. "You wear your heart on your sleeve." You've always told me with a fond smile, patting my head as you lead me along to our next destination, past the begging faces and hungry children.

I cannot bear to see you in pain, but I don't want to bear it myself. I know it is selfish but I never want to take your pain, your burden, off your heavy-laden shoulders, because I know I'd be crushed under its weight.

You're unbelievably strong, but you don't know it. You bear the weight of the world, shielding my eyes from its horrors the best you can. You protect me from the dangers that I am yet to be privy to, the dangers only you can see.

You tell me that I'd never want to see through your eyes, and I agree.

But that doesn't mean you can't try to see through mine. It doesn't mean that I don't want you to try and see through mine.

They say my vision is tinted with rose coloured lenses, that I love freely because my love has yet to be snatched away, but what they don't know is that my love had been captured from the minute I was born.

My heart aches each time I see the burden you carry. I long for you to share it. But you push me away with the shake of your head. "Go play." You say. "Have fun."

I can do nothing but nod and smile. I see the barest traces of a smile on your face when you see me happy, so how can I take that minute moment of bliss away?

You hold my hand when I come running back to you. I want you to join in on my fun, my adventures, but you tell me to go ahead.

I have no choice but to run along.

But even with my back turned to you, I see your wary eyes looking around, watching for the threat that isn't there.

We're in a playground, but all you see are predators. And I am their single prey.

I know I promised I wouldn't, but I take off the glasses for a moment just to see what you do.

The fear is debilitating, the anxiety suffocating. Your eyes are always on me as I meander through the play area, mingling with kids I very well may never see again, but just for the morning, are my best friends.

I try to see them as future competitors, future rivals vying for the same scholarships, same spots on a competitive team that may have a chance at championships, same lovers.

It's hard trying to see a friend as a foe. And now I see why you do it, why you do it for me. But I hate that you have to do it. I hate that I've changed your view of the world.

I try to change it back, to show you the goodness you once saw in it. Sometimes I see the ghost of a smile, others I see the mask you put on for the corporates you work for.

I wish just for a moment you would let your guard down and see the world as you once did, feel everything as you once felt it, love everyone as you once loved.

I wish you could see the world like you used to.

I wish you could see the stars the way I do.

I wish you could see the night sky and think of all the endless possibilities.

I wish you could see the bright new day the dawn shall bring.

I wish you could see.