I know I answered I’m ok. I know I told you everything was going good. But what I haven’t told you is that this is how I always respond whether I’m ok or not.
It’s my way of burying the pain. I think that if I stay positive, everything might really be alright.
It’s a conditioned response that I’ve become acclimated to give. The one that keeps everyone out and away. Because each time I let someone in, I get hurt again.
It’s the reply I give when asked how I’m doing. Even if I know deep down, I’m not doing so well. But this saves me the trouble of explaining.
I’m ok.
No, it hasn’t gotten easier. And no, I haven’t got myself together. But who would possibly understand. Who would know that really all I need is a friend.
So maybe I said I’m doing fine. And maybe I smiled while I said it too. My inner being wants me to seem strong but all it’s really doing is hurting me more. When there is no one to talk to, and the pain becomes unbearable, I act stronger and stronger. Inside I’m hoping I can will away the sorrow. Deep down I’m praying this is all a dream.
But it’s not.
The days have become longer and the nights darker. There seems to be no end to the struggles, no light in sight at the end of this tunnel.
So if you have already asked me once. And I say that I’m ok, please just ask me again.
Because the next time you do, I might pour my heart out to you. I might feel like you do care and want to listen. Or I might just break down knowing you really understand. But either way I’ll know that I got a friend in you.
Someone who won’t just brush off my response.
Someone who knows what it’s like trying to always be strong.