Behind the Funny Guy Who Always Smiles
He’s the one who walks in and suddenly the room feels lighter.
He’s quick with the non sneny joke. He doesn't care
He’s the one who makes sure everyone’s okay, and if they’re not, he’ll do anything to distract them from the pain.
Because that’s what he does best: he hides pain with laughter.
But what you don’t see is what happens when the crowd disappears.
When he’s alone, and the silence is too loud.
Behind that smile is someone who's tired. Not physically, but emotionally.
Tired of pretending.
Tired of being the “strong one.”
Tired of being everyone’s reason to laugh when he can’t even remember the last time he truly did.
Behind the jokes are battles he doesn’t talk about . not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s convinced no one would listen. Or worse… no one would believe him and No one listens to her or anything or say hey I'm here for you.
“He’s always happy. He’s the funny one.”
As if humor and heartbreak can’t live in the same body.
What no one realizes is that making others laugh was never just a act.... it became a coping mechanism.
A shield.
A lifeline.
And God, he wants to open up.
He wants someone to notice the cracks in his voice, the way he changes the subject when things get too real. Someone who understands his silence. Someone who understands his fear of being left out being alone. He is alone. He doesn't have anyone...
He wants someone to hold him look past the jokes and say,
“Shh You're not taken for granted. You don’t have to be funny right now. You don’t have to smile. I’m here.”
Because even the loudest laugh can echo in an empty heart...
Because behind that smile…
Is a soul just praying someone might finally ask,
“Are you really okay?”
And mean it.
He’s the one who walks in and suddenly the room feels lighter.
He’s quick with the non sneny joke. He doesn't care
He’s the one who makes sure everyone’s okay, and if they’re not, he’ll do anything to distract them from the pain.
Because that’s what he does best: he hides pain with laughter.
But what you don’t see is what happens when the crowd disappears.
When he’s alone, and the silence is too loud.
Behind that smile is someone who's tired. Not physically, but emotionally.
Tired of pretending.
Tired of being the “strong one.”
Tired of being everyone’s reason to laugh when he can’t even remember the last time he truly did.
Behind the jokes are battles he doesn’t talk about . not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s convinced no one would listen. Or worse… no one would believe him and No one listens to her or anything or say hey I'm here for you.
“He’s always happy. He’s the funny one.”
As if humor and heartbreak can’t live in the same body.
What no one realizes is that making others laugh was never just a act.... it became a coping mechanism.
A shield.
A lifeline.
And God, he wants to open up.
He wants someone to notice the cracks in his voice, the way he changes the subject when things get too real. Someone who understands his silence. Someone who understands his fear of being left out being alone. He is alone. He doesn't have anyone...
He wants someone to hold him look past the jokes and say,
“Shh You're not taken for granted. You don’t have to be funny right now. You don’t have to smile. I’m here.”
Because even the loudest laugh can echo in an empty heart...
Because behind that smile…
Is a soul just praying someone might finally ask,
“Are you really okay?”
And mean it.
