The Eyes Don’t Lie

The eyes never lie.
They can’t.
They’re plugged straight into whatever truth a person is trying to bury.

This weekend in The Woodlands, we played a show and Chad spoke from a place most men avoid. A place inside the heart where honesty feels like a blade. He talked about Charlie, about this country, and about the weight of being human in a world that keeps getting more artificial by the minute.

What I saw hit harder than the message itself.

Men staring forward, but not at the stage.
Past it.
Into something they’ve been running from.
That hollow, haunted look when a man finally feels what he usually hides.
Tears in some.
Quiet despair in others.
A strange sense of comfort in a few, like someone finally spoke their private truth out loud.

And here’s where it shifted.
The wives and girlfriends were watching their men wake up.
Not collapse.
Wake up.
There was strength in it. There was surrender in it. The kind that isn’t weakness. The kind that comes from being done with pretending.

There’s a hunger moving through people.
A real one.
Everyone is tired of acting okay.
Tired of nodding along with what doesn’t feel right.
Tired of carrying the weight of silence.

Some are finally choosing truth even when it costs everything.
Especially when it costs everything.

The eyes don’t lie.
They never have.
If you pay attention, you can tell exactly who’s awake and who’s still hiding from themselves.