She knows he forgets— not the love, just the tasks, the words left unsaid, the invisible asks. She knows when he plans he believes his own math, but logic outruns him again and again. He says he’ll come back to it she knows he intends to, but intention moves faster than any follow through. She knows he's oblivious. not careless, not cold, just built to move forward and ignore what's to him too small to hold. What he doesn't see walking straight ahead is the weight of moments he steps over instead. But she knows his love is true. That's never been a doubt. She sees it in his effort, in staying, in fighting it out. She knows he knows that words have their place, that love needs a voice not only just a face. But she knows how it hurts, how the quiet can ache, how the silence can feel like being burned at the steak. He watches her, She watches him. He’s trying, he's almost there. She smiles, a sad soft smile and wonders how long 'almost' can last for a while.