If I had a superpower,
I wouldn’t choose flying,
or invisibility,
or anything loud like that.

I think I’d want something smaller
the power to hear the truth
behind the words people say
when they’re trying to protect us.

I remember once I asked you
if you were happy.
You said 'yes' right away,
too quickly,
like you’d practiced it before,
like closing a door softly
so it doesn’t make a sound.

And I believed you.
Or maybe I only wanted to.

But the thought stuck.
And the truth is, I’m scared.
Scared that maybe you weren’t happy,
that maybe your sadness
comes from dreams you never followed
because of me.

And if that’s true,
what does that make me?
A reason?
A weight?
The one who stopped you
from being who you wanted?

I don’t think I could bear it.
Because I only want to see
that I brought you joy
that my life
made yours feel worth it,
not smaller. Not less.

And maybe that’s selfish.
It is selfish.
But it’s the truth.

So maybe I don’t want that superpower after all.
Because what if knowing
doesn’t fix anything?
What if it only hurts?

Maybe it’s better to hold onto your 'yes'.
Even if it isn’t the whole truth.
Even if it’s just a soft shield
you made for me.

Because love isn’t always about knowing everything.
Sometimes it’s about staying close,
not asking again.
Sometimes it’s enough
to sit beside you,
and believe the answer you gave.