I Said “I’m Fine” Before She Finished Asking

Dear Delyara, The neighbor caught me by the mailbox and said, “Hey, how are you—” I answered before the sentence was even done. Too fast. Too bright. Too practiced. “I’m fine.” Then I smiled and asked about her garden and her son and the leak in their basement, and by the time the conversation ended, I had performed another whole scene of normal life without saying one true thing. I came back inside carrying the mail and felt this deep private shame. Not because I lied. Because I lie so fluently now that it barely feels like a choice. Sometimes I think my saddest skill is how quickly I can save a room from my real condition. It’s a talent nobody should envy.