I felt so humiliated that I cried on the bus on the way home. It takes a lot for me to cry so I was shocked and embarrassed when I felt tears smart in my eyes.
She asked me if I was ok. She was smiling when she asked me if I was ok. "Yes. Yes I'm ok." A mechanical response. Soft and absolute. What else could I say? "No I'm not ok"? But she knew. And yet she asked. With that big smile frozen on her face. I know, I know. It's just what people ask each other all the time. It doesn't mean anything, or rather, it used to. Sometimes. Something like 'thank you'. It's a brief question spat out hastily so that we can resume lying to each other. I'm fine. I'm ok. So that we can take the easy way out and walk away from each other, and pray that the lies turn to truths, and the truths to lies.
"The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence;
not in silence, but restraint."
- 'Silence' by Marianne Moore.
I had a bad day.
I am going to lick my wounds in private, listen to emo music, eat ice cream, watch Grey's Anatomy, have a deep sleep, and tread lightly on my dreams where it is blissfully painless.
Everything will be better tomorrow.