“How are you?” they ask,
and I smile like it is an easy question.
“I’m good.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m okay.”
Three small words
that carry the weight
of everything I cannot explain.
Because the truth is…
I am tired.
I am heartbroken.
I have a thousand things inside my chest
that are begging to be heard.
I want to say,
“Please stay for a while.
I don’t need you to fix me,
I just need someone to listen.”
But then I remember
everyone has their own storms.
Everyone is fighting battles
they don’t talk about.
So I swallow my pain,
fold it neatly,
and put it away
like it does not need a place to exist.
I wonder…
Is it selfish to ask for comfort
when someone else is hurting too?
Is it wrong to need a hand
when other hands are already tired?
Maybe I forgot
that hearts were never meant
to carry everything alone.
Maybe asking,
“Can you sit with me for a moment?”
is not a burden.
Maybe saying,
“I’m not okay today,”
is not weakness.
Maybe I don’t need
to explain every broken piece
before someone is allowed
to care.
So if you ask me again,
“How’s life going?”
Maybe one day
I will stop saying “I’m fine.”
Maybe I will say,
“I’m struggling,
but I’m still here.
And if you have the space,
I would like someone to talk to.”
