I Lie When I Smile

When you asked me how I was doing, did you genuinely want to know, or was it a reflex question that people often ask and expecting an automated answer of “yes, I am fine” or “yes, I am good?” Sometimes I wish you would ask because you genuinely care and want to hear about my state of mind because then I could be honest and tell you that I am not doing fine. Maybe then I could hope that you care to listen and even be inclined to assist, without me worrying that you listen to my pain just to gossip. So when you asked me how I am doing, I am forced to lie. Lie and not speak the truth that I cry at night in my own space where I feel safe from judgmental and inquisitive eyes. I lie when I smile in the daytime to mask my pain because I feel like the world has gone insane and expects, demand even, that I smile to brighten my face, just as how the sun shines to brighten the days. I smile because no one wants to be reminded of their own pain in the light of day because they too must smile and carry on. No one should know that they have been reconfigured from broken pieces and they are fragile; they have to remain strong. So I dare not shed a tear in the light of day, for you to be forced to uncomfortably look away.